The Language of the Left Shoe
by PennyCent
Summary: No matter what, Murdock knows who his friends are. Complete!
1. Chapter 1 The Language of the Left Shoe

**Greetings! This is a piece which follows my other story 'Out of the Frying Pan.' Even if you haven't read my first story, this one should be easy enough to follow (I hope). Please R&R. I'm using more POV's this time and I'm a little nervous about it. Thanks and enjoy! Disclaimer: I still do not own any of the characters, but I still wish I did.**

**Chapter One: The Language of the Left Shoe**

It was a lazy Saturday, and, for once, Hannibal didn't have any missions lined up. The team hadn't had much downtime in the past few weeks, so BA was taking full advantage of the lull in activity.

The van had already received new sparkplugs and an oil change, but maybe, BA thought, the tires needed to be rotated as well. Wheeling a large jack over to the van, BA set his mind on the task at hand. He had been enjoying the quiet of his workshop, until the fool peeked into the room.

"Hey BA, whatcha doin?"

The groan escaped before he could stop it. No, the best way to deal with the crazy man was to ignore him. He'd get bored and go away, maybe. BA placed the jack under the van and started cranking.

"Workin' on the van, huh? Need any help?"

It was hard not to snap back with an answer. How come everything seemed so much harder to accomplish with the pilot around? BA felt his throat vibrate slightly as he let out a low growl, but he stayed focused on his work.

"I guess you don't, do you?"

Why did the man always have so many questions? BA clenched his jaw. The van slowly started to rise as the jack extended.

"Maybe I'll just sit out here with you for a bit and watch you work. Ok, BA?"

He could feel his shoulders tightening up. Murdock wasn't going to go away easily and yelling at the man would only fuel his craziness. BA drew in a deep breath and decided to continue ignoring the fool. There was still a chance that…

_Squeak….squeak…squeak…_

…maybe the man would…

_Squeak….squeak…squeak…_

…get bored.

His nerves fully frayed, BA spun around and glared at Murdock. "What you doing? Stop making that noise!"

Eyes wide, the Captain stood frozen in midstride with his left leg hovering above the ground. Wisps of light brown hair feathered out from under his dark ball cap. He swayed a little as he tried to keep his balance on one foot. His grey tee-shirt simply had the word 'Relax' printed on it, which only furthered BA's annoyance.

"I-it's my shoe, big guy. The left one keeps talking." Murdock lowered his foot to the ground.

_Squeak._

"See!" Murdock smiled. "I just got them! Isn't this great BA? The language of the left shoe is_ very_ hard to understand, but I think I'm learning! Do you want me to teach ya?"

"NO! I want you to be quiet, or better yet, go away. Gonna drive me crazy with your stupid shoe." BA felt a twinge of guilt as he watched the smile slide off Murdock's face.

"Oh, ok." The reply had been so quiet, BA almost hadn't heard it.

He turned back to the van. He couldn't apologize; He wouldn't be able to shut Murdock up if he did that. All he wanted was some time to himself. Why did the Captain have to ruin that? Cranking the jack again, he let his mind wander back to the process of rotating the tires. The tension in his shoulders eased a little.

Getting up to get another jack, BA glanced across the room. On the floor with his legs crossed, Murdock sat poking at the red sneaker on his left foot.

Looking up, a wide grin spread across the Captain's face. "I think Lefty speaks French too!"

BA grumbled but didn't have the heart to yell at Murdock again. As long as the fool was quiet, it would be ok if he stayed. Murdock turned his attention back to the shoe and BA watched with mild fascination.

The expression on Murdock's face reminded BA of a child engrossed in a Saturday morning cartoon. It was an innocent, carefree kind of relaxation that had engulfed the pilot. His big brown eyes sparkled and his goofy grin grew a little wider.

BA strolled around to the far side of the van before he smiled to himself. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't stay mad at the crazy fool.

* * *

><p>Hannibal hung up the phone as Face strolled into the room. He hoped his Lieutenant had discovered better news.<p>

"What's the word, Face?"

Face opened his mouth to speak, but then he suddenly spun away and nervously smoothed back his hair.

"Oh." Hannibal shrugged. "Is it that bad?"

"Well." Face turned around, his features still pinched slightly with concern. "You were right. Someone was digging into Murdock's files. I don't know how, but they got quite a lot of information without being detected. And…." He paused, his gaze meeting Hannibal's. "…I found out that there had been a group of people at the VA asking about him. They were asking a lot of questions, and not just about the A-Team. These guys wanted to know _everything_ about Murdock."

Hannibal sighed as he pulled a cigar out of his jacket pocket; he stared down at it, but couldn't bring himself to light it.

"It's just like with our clients," he said, putting the cigar away. "I've managed to track down about twenty of our old clients so far on the phone, and they all have the same story. Some men came around and started asking questions. Most of the time, there didn't seem to be much harm in answering them. No one thought much of it. If I hadn't gotten that call from Amy, I wouldn't have even known they were out there. These guys found out a lot of info on _all _of us."

"Bounty hunters?"

Hannibal shook his head. "No, bounty hunters would be pressing harder. Whoever is doing this is taking their time. They're gathering information and doing it quietly. I don't like this one bit."

"I guess we should tell Murdock and BA now." Face sounded hesitant.

It wasn't a lot to go on yet, so Hannibal could understand his Lieutenant's reluctance. This unknown threat had been eating away at the pair of them for the last week, and inflicting that same predicament on his other men didn't sound all that appeasing. Still, he couldn't leave them in the dark; it would be too dangerous.

"Yeah," Hannibal said at last. "They're out in the workshop. I sent Murdock out there a while ago to check on BA."

Face smiled. "I'm sure he'll thank you for that later."

"Sure he will! Oh, and Face," Hannibal paused to make sure the conman was paying close attention, "until we get this worked out, Murdock stays with us, and no one leaves the safe house alone, ok?"

Worry creasing his brow, Face nodded.

* * *

><p>"Ma'am?"<p>

Sarah Chiang glared up at the guard. Her desk was littered with papers, all of which she had already memorized. Still, she hated to be disturbed.

"Report!" She frowned at the sharpness of her voice. Showing emotions was a sign of weakness. She would have to be more careful in the future.

The young man hadn't recoiled at her tone. He stood straight, eyes focused on her. He had been trained well; she approved.

"Captain Murdock has not yet been returned to the VA," he said.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on keeping her face serene. "You can go."

There was a brief shuffle of sound as he exited. She waited until she heard the door click closed before she opened her eyes. Reaching out, she set her hands on the papers in front of her. Most of it was useless information, but she had found a few interesting tidbits as well.

Her eyes strayed from the papers to her own hands. The delicate fingers tapered so beautifully, but not all of them. She frowned as she raised her left hand. The middle and ring fingers were no more than tiny stumps of flesh, shot off at the knuckle. It was _his_ fault. But she would get her revenge. She would make him suffer, break him down and then, after all that, she would do exactly as she had said nearly a year ago. She would kill Murdock.


	2. Chapter 2 Stoke the Fires

**Chapter Two: Stoke the Fires**

BA's jaw started to ache as he ground his teeth together. He was mad, and, for once, it wasn't Murdock causing his rage. He slammed his wrench down into his toolbox before glaring up at the Colonel.

"Hannibal, this is serious! If these guys are messin' with my mama…"

"BA…" Hannibal's tone was soft, reassuring. "…I told you already, they haven't come snooping around your mother's house, yet. And as soon as I got the heads up on these guys, I sent your mom on a nice long vacation with her neighbor friend. She's having a great time on a world cruise. I have a number you can call to talk with her if you want."

BA sighed and looked away. His mother had always wanted to go on a cruise, and Hannibal had taken care of her, but…

"You should've talked with me, man. She my mama."

"I know," Hannibal replied. "We just haven't had a lot of down time and we're all a bit frayed at the ends. I need you boys rested up. Plus, I wanted to be sure this was an actual threat and just one of those snoopy newspaper reporters again. I'm sorry. I should have talked with you first."

BA felt some of the tension fade from his muscles. Hannibal had been right; they had needed some rest. The last barrage of missions had really worn him out. Even the small amount of time he had spent in his workshop had relaxed him. Maybe he could keep himself from strangling the crazy man now.

He peered over at Murdock. The fool still sat on the ground. With shoulders slumped, he had lowered his head so that the brim of his cap hid his eyes. His clasped hands hovered above his lap as he twiddled his thumbs.

Face cleared his throat and BA nearly jumped. He had forgotten the man was hovering in the doorway to the workshop. He probably didn't want to get grease all over his fancy new suit.

"Murdock," Face called over to the hunched form. "You've been mighty quiet."

Upon hearing his name, the pilot's head popped up. A grin spread across his face before he opened his mouth, but, after giving BA a quick glance, he snapped it shut. Smile gone, his brow furrowed as he peered pleadingly over at BA.

Murdock's eyes darted to Hannibal and then to Face before he shrugged and lowered his head once again. He began to toy with the laces on his left shoe as everyone continued to stare.

Face eased into the shop and crouched next to Murdock. "It will be ok. I know it's a little scary with people snooping around the VA, but it could still be nothing. They don't know for sure that you're with us. I left a pretty good cover story there about you being in Arizona for testing."

Murdock kept his head down.

"Yeah," Hannibal added, "We'll figure this all out."

Slowly, the fool looked up. His big brown eyes met BA's gaze. They were questioning, almost begging. BA couldn't help himself, he burst out in laughter.

After noticing Hannibal's and Face's baffled looks, BA explained. "The fool can't talk anymore in my shop or he gotta leave. I said so. He was talkin' too much craziness to his shoe." He turned to Murdock. "Ok, crazy man, talk."

Murdock perked up and grinned. "Ma chaussure comprend le français ! Son nom est Lefty. Il parle la langue de la chaussure gauche." He raised his left foot off the ground and stared proudly at it. "il est magnifique !"

"Um, ok, noted…" Hannibal pulled a cigar from his pocket. "So, you're not really that upset over this new little predicament?"

Murdock lowered his foot. "Not really. I'm sure you'll come up with a plan, o' great one!"

Hannibal smiled, but BA could see that something was wrong. There was still worry lingering in the Colonel's eyes. In fact, the more he looked, the more he noticed the slightly pale tone of his face. Peck was the same. His normally handsome face was looking a little haggard. How many sleepless nights had these two suffered?

BA caught Murdock studying their comrades' faces as well. Concern flooded his features briefly before he settled back into a relaxed, crazy-man state of bliss.

"I'll start dinner!" Murdock yelled as he jumped to his feet. "Tonight is Murdock's Mystery Meal! You'll love it!"

BA cringed as the man ran out of the workshop.

_Squeak…..squeak….squeak…..squeak…._

* * *

><p>Sarah glanced up as the gentle knock sounded at her door. She wasn't expecting anyone, but, for once, the distraction was welcomed.<p>

"Come in."

The door opened and Ray entered. Sarah kept her face placid as she watched the man. He was unpredictable, unlike many of the other powerful men she had used in the past. She enjoyed him more. He was stubborn and intelligent but not nearly as intense as others had been.

He closed the door and slowly turned to face her. His expression nearly as blank as her own, he strolled toward her desk.

If the luxuries of a powerful life hadn't tempted him so, Sarah might have considered him handsome. Good food had plumped his face and expanded his mid-section and his love of Scotch had damaged the capillaries in his face so that his bulbous nose was an ugly shade of red. Still, he emitted a certain demand of respect that she found appealing.

"How is your plan going?" His voice was quiet.

She rose from her desk and walked to her liquor cabinet. Surely he would want a drink. After pouring a glass of scotch, she handed it to him.

"Things are going well." She liked to keep him in the dark.

He frowned and then started to skim through the papers on her desk.

She bit her lip, suppressing her anger. He had every right to see what she was up to. He had funded all her work, but it felt wrong. She liked doing things in secret. She liked surprising people.

"The little girl?" He held up a picture of a dimpled faced child running through a playground. "Is this the one that was in the accident?"

It was getting harder to conceal her frustration, and the smile that crept onto his face wasn't helping. He must have had his people watching her. Still, it was prudent on his part. He knew about her past and he was far too clever to give her full freedom. She would have to play this one differently.

Smiling, she nodded. "Yes, she broke both her arms. Sad, isn't it?"

He set the picture down. "And her mother will seek out the A-team?"

"Of course. A little birdie told her where she might find them."

Ray's dark eyes studied her. "And won't they know it's a trap?"

"They will, but it won't matter. The A-Team won't walk away from children in danger and especially not once they hear how many tragic _accidents_ have befallen that school for underprivileged kids."

He downed his scotch and set the glass on her desk. "You seem sure of this."

"Well," she replied, "there are plenty more little arms and legs to be broken at that school. Eventually, the team will come."


	3. Chapter 3 Wants and Needs

**Chapter Three: Needs and Wants**

Standing on the rooftop, Ray watched Sarah exit the building. She glanced around before wandering across the parking lot.

"Sir, Do you want me to follow her?"

Ray shrugged. The young guard standing behind him was more than capable of following Sarah, but it hardly mattered. "I already know where she's going."

He continued to watch her as she slowly made her way to the street. Within seconds, she had disappeared into the city.

"I've seen that warehouse she acquired. Whether she knows it or not, I've been there. She's made it…" he paused, considering the right phrasing "…comfortable for what she wants."

"I don't trust her."

Ray laughed and turned to face the young man. "No one does."

A brief look of annoyance flashed across the guard's face. "Why do you keep her around?"

Ray thought about that for a moment. He had asked himself that same question hundreds of times.

He turned to stare back across the empty parking lot. "She's useful. Once she's done playing with this A-Team, I'll send her back to Africa. Our dealings in the diamond market don't seem to be as profitable without _the eight-fingered devil_, as the men down there call her."

Still, he had to wonder if the profits were worth the risk. He shook off the worry. It was getting late and he needed a glass of scotch.

* * *

><p>Hannibal leaned back in his chair. Under his breath, he cursed himself for listening to Face. How had he let himself fall victim to the conman? Stupid! The crowd shifted as the din of conversation grew. Scanning the room, he studied the gowns and tuxes. No one seemed out of place, but that didn't mean much.<p>

"Isn't this great?" Face appeared suddenly. Flopping down on a chair next to Hannibal, he pulled himself up to the table and grinned. "I just spoke with the most marvelous young actress. She…"

"Face, I think we should be going."

"Hannibal….." The name came out as a soft whine. "Come on! You deserve this. How long was _The Bride of Aquamaniac _in production? You worked really hard on it and you should be at the premiere!"

Hannibal sighed. "I don't know Face. This feels wrong. I don't like being out like this, not right now. Plus, BA and Murdock didn't look too happy about us getting out of the house and leaving them behind. We should get back before BA puts the Captain through a wall."

"Aw, those guys will be fine. They don't mind." Face snatched two champagne glasses off a tray as a waiter scooted past; he handed one to Hannibal. "The guys want you to enjoy this event. And I told Murdock to lock himself in the pantry if he gets BA too riled up. As for everything else…we've been cooped up in that house for almost two weeks. How much longer do you think we can keep this up?"

"This isn't really a _premiere_ either," Hannibal muttered. "It's more of a soiree for investors and they might just happen to, eventually, play the movie."

"Oh Colonel." A grin spread across the Lieutenant's face. "Don't tell me you're still sore over the direction they went in with the script."

"No! That's not it at all!" Or was it? Hannibal felt his cheeks growing warm. "When I signed up, the Aquamaniac's bride was going to be a beautiful woman, but then, at the last minute, they changed everything!"

"And…" Face raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with delight.

Hannibal fidgeted. "They slapped Carl in another monster suit and called him the bride."

"And who is Carl?"

Hannibal frowned. Face knew damn well who Carl was, but at least Peck was having a good time. The last month had been hard. It was good to see the kid smiling.

"Carl was the caterer…" Hannibal mumbled.

"What was that? I'm not sure I quite heard what you just had to…"

The soft whisper of a woman's voice silenced Face.

"John….John Smith?"

Hannibal made eye contact with Face. He hoped that he had managed to deliver his patented '_We need to get the hell outta here' _look. Then, both men whirled around.

Whatever they had expected to find wasn't what stood before them.

The woman was short. She stood nearly at eye level with them as they sat. Her plump body tested the strength of the cheap floral dress she had crammed herself into. Coarse, dark hair sat haphazardly pinned with clips atop her head. Her ruddy, gnome-like face was free of makeup, except for a shade of strikingly bright red lipstick. She gave Hannibal a shy smile, revealing a large gap between her lipstick encrusted front teeth. She was certainly out of place.

"You are John Smith, arent' you?" Her pudgy hands trembled slightly as she stared at Hannibal.

"Who wants to know?" Hannibal glanced around the room. No one seemed to be watching.

"I-I…well…we…we need…."

They couldn't just wait there listening to the woman stutter. Their position was too open. Hannibal stood, watching the woman's eyes grow wide.

"We have to be going." He hated how curt he sounded, but it wasn't the time for niceties.

He gently moved her aside, but behind her was another surprise.

The girl must have been around six or seven years old. With her head lowered, she peered up at him through her thick lashes. With chocolate smudges on her face, tangled blond pony tails and an oversized tee-shirt nearly engulfing her, the child looked more out of place than the woman. She stood stubbornly in place, but Hannibal had no intention of moving her.

He leaned down and met her gaze. Her fierce green eyes filled with tears. He studied her longer, letting his eyes linger on her left and right arms. Children had scrawled their names and words of encouragement on both casts.

The woman stepped forward and placed a loving hand on the child's shoulder. "We need to hire the A-team."

* * *

><p>Sarah blended in beautifully with the crowd. For show, she arched her back and gave a loud squeal of laughter at a producer's awful joke. He was enthralled.<p>

Several times, Hannibal's keen gaze had shifted her way. She ignored him. He had never gotten a good look at her before, so she had little to worry about. Plus, her white gloves hid her missing fingers, so he wouldn't have that to be suspicious of either.

Eagerly, she watched the woman approach Hannibal and Peck. Their reaction was just as she expected. She could practically see Hannibal's heart melting as he looked at the little girl. Holding her breath, she waited. Finally, she could read the words forming on his lips.

"_You've just hired the A-Team."_

Without drawing any attention to herself, she made her way out of the room. They would come to her. There was no need to hunt them all down. They were so predictable.

She still felt a little unsettled; while Murdock's slow torment was going to be fun, she wanted more. Once they were captured, their spirits had to be broken. She smiled to herself. She needed...to kill Hannibal.


	4. Chapter 4 Patience

**Chapter Four: **Patience ****

"Fool, sit still!"

Murdock shrugged. The big guy had no sense of what was fun. He pulled his head back inside the van and rolled his window up. Ok, maybe the howling had been pushing it.

"BA, I'm sorry, but we been cooped up way too long, and I gotta let out some energy. You can't blame a guy for needing to let off some steam, can you?"

Judging from the wrinkles in his forehead, BA_ could_ blame a guy for being restless. Murdock shrank down into his seat. Trying to flatten his hair, he mashed the fluffy tufts down before slipping his cap over them. It would be a mess later, but who was he trying to impress?

It was hard to sit still. The radio wasn't even on. How could they travel without tunes? Murdock reached for the dial, but after a quick growl from BA, he retracted his hand.

Drawing his knees up to his chest, he let his feet settle onto the dash. Slowly, he flexed his left foot.

_Squeak._

BA spun to face him, the whites of his eyes warning of his rage. "I'm gonna make you eat those shoes if you do that again! Now, SIT STILL!"

Every so carefully, he withdrew his feet from the dash and fled from the passenger's seat to his normal perch in the rear. Maybe a little distance was all BA needed?

As Murdock hunkered down, he could see the big guy's face in the rearview mirror. Boy, he was mad. BA looked up, his reflected gaze meeting Murdock's.

Frozen, the Captain panicked. Should he apologize, or would that make it worse? Maybe he shouldn't talk at all, or maybe that would make BA go berserk? What should he do? Whatever it came down to, he was certain it would be wrong.

He tried to force a grin, but the outcome must have been awful; BA quickly looked away. Defeated, Murdock tightly folded his arms and stared sadly down at his feet. BA didn't mean it; he knew that. They had just spent too much time together, trapped in that house. BA never meant it. Besides, no matter how hard he tried, Murdock doubted he could actually eat his own shoes.

"We gotta be serious on this mission, ok?" The anger had faded from BA's voice. "Hannibal said someone was hurtin' kids. Kids! Can you believe that?"

Murdock smiled. This was the closest thing to an apology BA could muster. He had studied the ways of the ugly mudsucker; his questions were open invitations to smooth things over.

"Yeah…wait …I mean. NO!" Murdock cringed. "I can't imagine it! It's awful, despicable, horrible and even vile."

"Yeah…" BA spoke quietly, as if lost off in thought.

Murdock sighed. That could have gone better. He'd have to wait and hope BA started asking more questions, but the silence felt everlasting. Only the gentle rumble of the engine was there to comfort him.

Finally, the van eased to a stop.

"This is the school Hannibal told us about. Everyone should be inside." BA nodded toward a dimly lit structure.

Murdock surveyed the building. Small, poorly maintained and surrounded by low income apartments and abandoned warehouses, it sent up all kinds of red flags. Seeing that BA wasn't too eager to exit the van either, Murdock assumed their instincts were telling them both the same thing.

"This is a trap, isn't it?"

BA shrugged. "Yeah, probably. What choice have we got though? They're hurtin' kids."

Well, there was no arguing with that. They didn't have a choice. BA shuffled out of the van. Murdock followed.

It was late, very late, and an overcast sky hid away all moonlight. Despite the warm summer breeze, Murdock shivered. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. He tried to look relaxed. _If_ someone was watching, he didn't want them to know how tense he was.

BA, on the other hand, didn't seem to care. Fists clenched, he glared up at the surrounding buildings.

"I'm gonna hurt someone for this…" he muttered.

Murdock tried to think of something to say to calm the big guy down, but he couldn't focus. The only thing his mind was set on were those great big wonderful double doors to the school. Inside had to be safe, right? He was sure he could feel someone watching. He took in a breath and held it, waiting for...waiting for...he wasn't sure, but it wasn't something good.

Stumbling through the doorway, he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. They were in a long, narrow hallway.

"It's about time you boys got here." Hannibal sat on a bench smoking a cigar.

A thin, elderly woman sat next to him. Her wrinkled mouth set in a scowl as she glared at the Colonel.

"It is against school policy to smoke those on the premises. I must ask you again to…"

Hannibal held up a hand, silencing the woman.

"I know, but I think much better with a cigar." He got to his feet and led BA and Murdock down the hall. "That old bat has been driving me up the wall. But I gotta hand it to her, she is one tough bird."

"What's the deal, Hannibal?" BA asked.

Hannibal took another puff off his cigar. "That woman is the school's principle, and how anyone decided it was a good idea to go up against her is beyond me. I guess someone came in a while back and made an offer on the building, but it was a piddling amount and was promptly turned down. A few threats rolled in after that, but then everything seemed to settle down. Face tried to track down the name behind the offer, but it ended up being some bogus company."

BA stopped, forcing the others to as well. "What about the kids?"

"When they started getting hurt, they thought it was all accidents." Hannibal sighed. "But after a while, so many accidents start to raise suspicions. It was simple at first. A slip on a wet floor or tripping on a loose brick, but then it got more serious. The brakes on the bus failed and then pieces of the playground equipment suddenly started falling apart. Water pipes exploded and fires mysterious started. See there?" Hannibal motioned down the hallway.

Face was talking quietly with a group of adults as a few sleep-eyed children stood around them. A few of the parents had visible bruises. The children sported bandages, splints and casts.

"The little girl, near the front…" Hannibal pointed her out. "She broke both her arms when the school's wooden play set collapsed. Her mother was the one who came to us."

"And how…" Murdock paused, unsure if he wanted to know the answer. "…did she find you?"

Hannibal frowned. "Someone left a note on her car."

* * *

><p>It was dark, but she could still see the two figures heading toward the school. Sarah picked up her sniper rifle and leaned out the warehouse window. Carefully, she aimed. The life was hers for the taking, but where would the fun be in that? Lowering the gun, she watched the two disappear into the building. Soon, she would have them all.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5 A Better Mousetrap

**Chapter Five: A Better Mousetrap**

Hannibal sighed as he made yet another pass around the outside of the building. Things had been quiet but that wasn't sitting well with him. At least he didn't have to worry about that crowd of civilians any longer. Face had finally convinced the parents that it would be safer if they left the fighting to the professionals. It was a hard sell and most left grudgingly.

There was still plenty to worry about though. Hannibal rubbed his temple; he was getting one killer of a headache. Plus, four hours of tense patrolling would be taking a toll on his men. He had to think of something quick, but…where had he put that last cigar? He patted his shirt pocket. Nope, and he had been sure that's where he had put it.

His hand brushed by the walkie-talkie clipped to his belt just as BA's voice sounded from it. "…Hannibal?"

With one swift motion, he had the radio hovering in front of his mouth. "Report Sargent."

"Bus garage is clear, Colonel. I'll meet you near the playground."

"Received." Hannibal frowned. It had been a while since he had checked in with everyone. "Face, how are things inside."

He stared at the dark little radio in his hand, waiting. BA would be getting close to the playground soon; he'd have to get moving so the big guy wasn't out in the open for too long. But first, he needed to hear from Face and Murdock.

He could feel his anxiety rising, and he tried to keep it masked as he raised the radio again. "Face, report!"

Finally, Face's voice sounded. "….Colonel, hold on one minute….Stop it! Stay still….Because I said so!" There was a long sigh that carried over the airwaves. "Hannibal, Murdock can't keep walking around in those shoes. If anyone is in this building, they can hear us coming from a mile away."

"So, you haven't turned up anything yet?"

"Hannibal," Face said with a tired tone, "like I said, anyone could hear us coming. Maybe someone is around, but we didn't find them."

In the background, Hannibal could hear Murdock heatedly defending his shoes. Well, there was no helping that now. He certainly couldn't make the Captain walk around barefoot.

"Face, one more thing…" Hannibal just had to ask. "Do you have my cigar?"

"Uh, let me see….Yeah, I've got it right here."

Hannibal grinned. "BA and I will be inside in a few minutes. I want you and Murdock to meet us in the hall by the double doors. I think we need to rethink this plan a little. Things are far too hinky for my liking."

"Received. We'll be there…Murdock, I told you to…." The radio cut off, but that was fine. Face could handle Murdock for a few more minutes until they all met up.

After clipping his radio back on his belt, Hannibal set off toward the playground. There were still a few hours until dawn, but the sky had grown lighter and visibility was better. Rounding a corner, he spotted BA standing near the crumbled remnants of the play set. Arms folded, the large man's jaw was clenched tightly as he stared down at the mess.

Hannibal started trudging over. He hadn't really wanted to get a good look at the thing. Who could do something so evil? Tampering with play sets had to be a new low for anyone. He was still ten yards away when he noticed BA suddenly give a slight jerk. The big man turned, eyes meeting Hannibal's. He wobbled a little and started to shake his head, as if fighting to stay awake. Then, he collapsed.

* * *

><p>The classroom was quiet, well, almost quiet.<p>

_Squeak…squeak…squeak…_

"Murdock!"

It really wasn't his fault, but no matter how many times he tried to explain that to Face, the man just wouldn't listen. Slowly, he turned around, trying not to give his shoe the opportunity to…

_Squeak._

Face frowned, closed his eyes and tilted his head back. "Why me?"

"Um, Facey? I'm sorry, but I really don't know what ya want me to do about Lefty. He just has a lot to say. I mean, I know it's inconvenient and all with us sneaking around, but…"

Face opened his eyes. "How are we supposed to catch anyone with that noisemaker, huh, how? Murdock that shoe is going to get us _killed_"

"I could hop on one foot," Murdock offered, feeling rather pleased with the idea.

Face shrugged. "I doubt that would be any quieter. Maybe you should just take that shoe off."

"But Face," he whined, "the floor is so cold!"

"It's not that bad."

The Captain thought for a moment. "You really don't think it's that cold?"

Face smiled. "Of course not, buddy."

"Ok then, how about you let me wear your shoes and you go barefoot?"

Static sounded from the radio in Face's pocket, followed by Hannibal's muffled voice. He seemed to be talking with BA. Face shuffle around, trying to pull the radio from his suit.

"I don't think we wear the same size…" Face kept tugging delicately at the radio. "And these shoes are _very_ expensive. I'm not loaning them to you."

"Face, report!" Hannibal's voice barked.

Murdock watched as Face freed the radio. They both flinched at the sound of ripping fabric.

"Colonel, hold on one minute…"

Murdock sprang forward to get a better look at the damaged suit.

_Squeak…squeak…squeak._

Face glared across the room. "Stop it! Stay still."

"But we're not being sneaky now, right? Why can't I just…"

"Because I said so!" Face gave a long sigh before turning his attention back to the radio. "Hannibal, Murdock can't keep walking around in those shoes. If anyone is in this building, they can hear us coming from a mile away."

Murdock was about to speak up but then he saw movement outside the classroom window.

"So, you haven't turned up anything yet?" Hannibal asked.

Hopping on his right foot, Murdock made his way toward the window.

"Hannibal," Face replied. "Like I said, anyone could hear us coming. Maybe someone is around, but we didn't find them."

"That's not fair, Face!" Murdock couldn't let them go on bashing Lefty like that. "If a shoe can talk, who are we to silence him?"

"Face, one more thing…" Hannibal's voice had a hint of desperation to it. "Do you have my cigar?"

Murdock could hear Face digging through his pockets. He didn't turn to watch though. He was almost sure he had seen something moving in the bushes, but he couldn't quite see what it was.

"Uh, let me see." Face suddenly stopped riffling around. "Yeah, I've got it right here."

The bushes rustled again. Maybe it had just been the wind?

"BA and I will be inside in a few minutes." Hannibal sounded like he might be on the jazz, finally. "I want you and Murdock to meet us in the hall by the double doors. I think we need to rethink this plan a little. Things are far too hinky for my liking."

No, it wasn't the wind. There was someone there…

"Received. We'll be there," Face replied.

He squinted, totally focused on the dim spot nestled within the shrubbery that was nearly fifteen yards away. So, when a masked figure suddenly appeared directly outside the window with a gun, Murdock yelped and took a few unsteady steps back toward Face.

_Squeak...squeak…squeak._

"Murdock, I told you to…." But Face didn't get anything more out.

Glancing back, Murdock saw the look of horror on his friend's face. He must have just noticed the masked man, but there was more Face hadn't yet discovered. Murdock could feel a knot forming in his throat as he stared at the five armed men standing in the open doorway behind Face.


	6. Chapter 6 No Good

**Chapter Six: No Good**

Murdock gave a shout as Face crumpled to the floor. With a spent syringe in hand, one of the masked men stood over the motionless body. He kicked the radio away from Face before looking up at Murdock.

"You're next…"

The low, gravelly voice sent shivers up Murdock's spine. He had to help Face, but how? Going for Hannibal was out of the question. He couldn't leave Face with these men, and he doubted he could escape. They had both the windows and doorway secured.

Another of the men came forward to scoop Face up. He flopped the unconscious man over his shoulder and turned to leave.

"No, don't!" Murdock bit his tongue, wishing he hadn't given them the satisfaction of hearing his distress.

The man gave no hesitation, and Murdock watched with growing panic as his friend was carried away. The others were drawing closer to Murdock as they edged around the school desks.

He had to resist the urge to close his eyes. He didn't want to see what was going to happen. They were going to grab and restrain him. Would they drug him as they had Face? Maybe. Being held down, unable to move, that was what he hated the most, the drugging would just be an awful bonus. He steadied his breathing. It was time to be brave; he had to, for Face.

Fists clenched, he glared at the men nearest him. He thought briefly about pulling the pistol from his jacket, but he was outmatched in firepower. If he forced them into a firefight, he was as good as dead.

There was a flurry of motion as all four men dove at Murdock. He got a couple of good punches in, and he felt brief flashes of triumph as each connection he made was followed by a quiet cuss from its recipient. The men threw no punches themselves though. They were by no means gentle, but they were far more restrained than Murdock had thought they would be. As a group, they pushed him to the floor.

Facedown, Murdock winced as a boot dug into his back and his arms were painfully twisted behind him. Someone dug into his jacket and took his gun. He squirmed as he felt the rough length of rope wrapping around his wrists. Ok, maybe if he stopped fighting, they could finish securing his arms and then let him up; he willed himself to stop, but the helplessness he felt at being restrained kept him struggling against them. And then something slipped over his head.

He breathed in the musty smell of burlap as he was hauled to his feet. Only pinpricks of light filtered through the cloth. For a moment, he was completely free of anyone's grasp and then a strong hand grabbed him by his shoulder.

"Get moving, and if you don't want your handsome buddy to suffer, then no more funny stuff." It was that same terrible voice again.

Feeling a sharp tug on his shoulder, Murdock staggered forward.

_Squeak…squeak…squeak._

He sure hoped talking shoes didn't qualify as 'funny stuff.'

* * *

><p>Sarah stood at the end of the hall, watching the man approach. She smiled at the limp form he carried. Trying to ignore the missing digits, she held up her left hand to bring the man to a halt. He paused in front of her and bent slightly over so she could reach the unconscious man.<p>

Gingerly, she slipped her hand into his jacket. After a brief search, she pulled out a cigar. Down the hall, inside one of the classrooms, the clatter of desks sounded. Murdock must have been putting up a pretty good fight, but it didn't matter. She had planned everything far too well. The A-Team didn't have a hope.

She waved at the man to continue on and he did so. From out of the classroom, four of her hired men appeared with Murdock. He stumbled along, hindered by the burlap sack over his head. That had been a nice touch; she was proud of that one. It was better to have him awake, fearful. Plus, she didn't want any drugs dulling his senses.

Turning, Sarah made her way outside. It was time to give the Colonel his cigar.

* * *

><p>Within seconds, Hannibal was crouching beside BA. He stayed low; he hadn't heard a gunshot, but he wasn't taking any chances.<p>

"Can you hear me, BA? Tell me what happened."

The big guy's eyes fluttered open. "Hannibal? Back of neck…"

"Just take it easy. Everything is going to be ok." Hannibal eased his hand behind BA's neck and found a small tranquilizer dart. That wasn't good.

"You…weren't…planning…" BA's breathing was becoming more labored as he spoke. "plane? I'm…not…getting…on…no…plane."

"No Sergeant, there aren't any plane trips in our future." Hannibal sat BA up. "Do you think you can stand?"

BA gave a little groan and strained to rise, but then his eyes rolled back in his head and he went completely limp.

"Come on, BA, stay with me!" Hannibal shook the man, but it was useless; he was out.

If he could get the Sergeant up onto his shoulders, he knew he could carry him, but lifting the guy was always challenging. Taking a deep breath, Hannibal was just about to haul BA upwards when he felt a slight shock of pain in his shoulder.

Letting go of BA, he spun around. Everything seemed quiet. He took a step forward; his vision started to blur. It must have been another dart. He should have been quicker in getting them both to cover. He collapsed to his knees, fighting to remain awake. Someone was walking toward him. Was it a woman? He squinted, but everything was too hazy. He dropped to the ground, lying on his side. The figure crouched down beside him. Something danced before his face. The sweet smell of cigar tobacco filled his nostrils. Face? That wasn't Face. How did she have the cigar? What had they done with Face and Murdock?

He could feel something warm brush past his chest as the familiar shape of a cigar slid into his shirt pocket.

"I'll give you this last one…" a woman's voice whispered, "…but I doubt you'll have enough time to enjoy it."

* * *

><p>As she entered the warehouse, Sarah allowed herself a brief moment to laugh. It would have been better if she could have held her jubilance in, but it was too great to contain. They were hers! Her plan had gone off perfectly. Her men had already hauled them all downstairs. Now, she could start the real fun.<p>

"Having a good day?"

Her laughter abruptly halting, she stared at the man standing before her.

Ray smiled."I think that we need to talk."


	7. Chapter 7 Disappointment

**Chapter Seven: Disappointment**

"What are_ you_ doing here?"

Ray let his smile linger. He loved to hear the malice in her voice; it meant he had unnerved her. That was good. It was dangerous to let her go unchallenged for too long. Otherwise, she might get ideas. Men in her past had suffered greatly for not paying enough attention.

"I see you've captured the A-Team." Ray kept his voice soft, friendly. "You've done very well."

Her scowl grew; praise was obviously not what she wanted, but what did she want from him? Once, he had thought it was companionship, but he wasn't so foolish any longer.

"I_ said, '_what are you doing here'?" Her tone was lethal, but, in contrast, her face held a strange serenity; it was unsettling.

Her gaze moved from him to his men. Ray shifted in place, carefully watching her. She would be calculating her odds, and she would find her situation…uncomfortable. The dozen or so street thugs she had hired would be no match for his heavily armed men.

He pulled a flask from his jacket. "I have five more men downstairs."

Unscrewing the cap, he eyed the silver container. Even her silence felt deadly. He took a swig of his whiskey. The scotch hadn't been sitting well with him lately; it was time for a change.

"What do you want?" She had spoken so quietly he almost hadn't heard.

He knew he would win, but hearing the defeat in her voice was still pleasant. Savoring the moment, he took a celebratory drink from his flask.

"I'm not entirely happy with how things have been going." Ray wiped his chin on his sleave. "You've been keeping too many secrets, and that worries me."

He waited for a response, but it soon became apparent she would offer none.

"So, you don't deny this, but I didn't think you would." He paused, still hoping she would answer. "Isn't there anything you would like to say? No? Well, I don't care to have you here any longer. My dealings in diamonds have suffered since your little vacation. I need you to go back to Africa."

She gave a tiny nod. Could it really be that easy? He doubted it.

"I'm taking two of the members of the A-Team from you."

Contempt flashed briefly across her face before disappearing.

He eyed her warily. "I'll give you three days; you can have some fun here with the prisoners I let you keep and…" He took another sip from his flask. "…the two I am taking will be sent to you once you get back to Africa, deal?"

"I really don't have much of a choice, do I?"

He smiled. "No, you don't."

Her gaze settled on his flask. "You know, that stuff will kill you."

Ray laughed. "Maybe, or maybe you will."

She gave a faint smile. Ray studied her face, mainly her mouth. He missed feeling her soft, delicate lips pressed up against his own. What he wouldn't give to have those caresses again.

"So," she said, pulling him from his daydreams. "Which prisoners are you taking?"

He capped his flask and tucked it into his jacket. "Hopefully, the ones you don't want me to, but you'll see for yourself. My men should be bringing them up shortly."

* * *

><p>Murdock pressed his head against the bars. "Pppssst…Wakey, wakey!"<p>

In the cell across the hall, BA's massive form lay sprawled out on the concrete floor. Watching those thugs pilfer BA's jewelry had nearly made Murdock sick. He didn't even want to imagine what the big guy was going to do to those _fools_ when he woke up. In vain, he tried again to wake the ugly mudsucker, but even if BA wasn't ready to wake up yet, maybe someone else was. With renewed determination, Murdock made his way to the opposite side of his cell.

_Squeak…squeak…squeak._

Crouching down, he reached a hand through the bars. "Facey! Come on, wake up, please? "

His fingertips brushed the conman's back, but just barely. The man remained motionless. Eventually someone had to wake up, right?

Getting to his feet, Murdock crossed his cell again.

_Squeak…squeak…squeak…squeak._

"Hannibal? Are you awake? We really need a plan right about now. Colonel?"

Slumped against the far wall of a cell next to BA's, Hannibal's eyes remained closed. No problem, if he just kept pestering them, he could get them awake. He turned and…

"Knock it off!" The voice halted Murdock instantly.

He hadn't exactly forgotten about the three masked men standing guard, but a lot of his focus had been directed at waking the others.

"Knock what off?" Murdock asked innocently. "I'm just tryin' to get my friends up."

No one answered, so he started to make his way back over to Face.

_Squeak…squeak…squeak…_

"THAT'S IT! I'VE HAD IT!"

Murdock spun around just in time to see his cell door fly open. Something crashed into him and suddenly he was on the floor. He blinked up at the masked man pinning him down. Angry green eyes peered at him from the mask's eyeholes. Murdock tried to free his arms from the man's grasp, but it was no use, the guy was nearly twice his size.

Something tugged at Murdock's foot and, glancing down, he found another of the men pulling at his shoe.

"Noooooooooo! Not Lefty!"

He thrashed and kicked, but he couldn't manage to free himself. Panting for breath, he still refused to give up. They couldn't do this…they couldn't just…

Pain shot through his ankle as his shoe was yanked off his foot. Suddenly, he was released. The men left the cell, taking the shoe with them. Murdock closed his eyes, waiting for the throbbing in his ankle to fade.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and sat up. A sense of loss settled over him as he stared down at his shoeless foot. The bare white sock looked so sad and pathetic. He ran a hand over his swollen ankle, and then tried moving it. He winced at the pain. It was probably sprained, maybe twisted, but he doubted it was broken.

He glared at the guards, watching helplessly as they tossed around his shoe.

"Je vous récupérerai, chère chaussure. Je promets." Murdock felt his chin quiver as he spoke.

"That guy is nuts!" One of the guards said, gaining a laugh from the other two.

Murdock stood up, taking care not to put pressure on his injured ankle, and prepared himself to defend the honor of crazy people everywhere, but he didn't get the chance.

Five more men entered the hall, but they wore no masks. They spoke quickly with the three guards. Murdock watched with interest as a wad of cash exchanged hands.

After counting the bills, one of the masked men motioned toward the cells. "Yeah, sure, take two of them."

Murdock tried to swallow down the knot of dread forming in his throat. This _really_ couldn't be good.

* * *

><p>Sarah hated waiting. She bit her lip as she eyed the stairs. They should be coming up soon.<p>

She glanced over at Ray. He wasn't watching her, for once. Instead he stood staring blankly at the floor with his open flask in hand. In all fairness she had warned him. That stuff was going to kill him. She was sure of it. She wanted it to; otherwise, she wouldn't have poisoned all his liquor. Granted, it was a slow poison, but that just made it more amusing.

The faint sound of footsteps drew her attention back to the stairs. In her peripheral vision, she saw Ray take a sip from his flask. That was a slight comfort.

"Here they come," Ray announced.

But Sarah ignored him as the group came into view.


	8. Chapter 8 Shades of Grey

**Chapter Eight: Shades of Grey**

Awareness slowly eased back over him, but Hannibal fought against it. Such a warm, deep slumber had been hard to come by lately. Eyes closed, he basked in the comfort of his own relaxed, even breath. But foggy memories began returning to him, disturbing his peace. BA collapsing to the ground, the shock of the dart striking his shoulder, the drug induced helpless he had suffered all surfaced in his mind.

"Wha?" He hadn't meant to speak, but the sound cascaded out of his mouth as he tried to move. Unfortuantely, he found himself tied quite securely to a rather uncomfortable wooden chair.

"Hannibal? Are you awake? Please tell me you're awake now!"

His eyes fluttering open, Hannibal groaned at the brightness of the office lights. Was that a zebra staring at him? That seemed…odd. He blinked, but the zebra remained; its lifeless head mounted to the wall. Beneath it, a large mahogany desk sat neatly piled with papers. Glancing to his right, Hannibal met Face's concerned gaze.

"Do _you_ know where we are?" There was a hint of hope in the conman's voice.

Hannibal sighed, looking back up at the zebra. "I haven't a clue, Face."

"Well," Face said softly, "do you at least know where BA and Murdock are?"

"No." That was a hard to admit. "Lieutenant, can you…can you get free?"

Face shifted in his seat. "I can, but it's going to take time…a lot of time. Someone really did their homework."

"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of. We're going to need to…"

Hannibal went silent as the door behind them creaked open.

"I'm glad you're awake. I have a few questions for you, gentlemen. Smith and Peck, isn't it?"

Hannibal turned and studied the man hovering in the doorway. The plump man's pained expression was nearly veiled by his smile, but not quite. He had dark half circles under his bloodshot eyes, and his face was pallid except for the comically red, bulbous nose and two patches of pink flushing his cheeks. He entered the room, swaying slightly as he shut the door.

"What do you know about Sarah?" The man turned his attention to Face.

"Uh, well…um." Face grinned. "You might have to be more specific. I've _known_ a lot of Sarahs."

Hannibal started to chuckle at the emphasis Face put on 'known,' but he stopped himself as he noticed the portly man's deathly gaze. It probably wouldn't be a good thing if Face had _known_ this particular Sarah.

The man slowly made his way to the desk and sat down. He did so carefully, as if fearing a fall.

"Sarah Chiang."

Hannibal and Face exchanged confused glances. The name sounded familiar, but from where? Then it clicked.

"Hey, yeah, we know her." Hannibal leaned back, testing his restraints again. "I believe we had some trouble with her down in Mexico last year."

"Oh," Face chimed in, "the one with Ramirez! Right, she was craz…" He gave a weak smile. "She was nice, but I really didn't _know_ her, just so we're clear."

The man sighed, seeming to consider what they had said. Reaching down, he pulled a bottle of scotch from his desk; it was half empty.

"I think, it's time for a drink. Care to join me?"

* * *

><p>Murdock leaned against the cold concrete wall of his cell. He didn't really care for the minimalistic design. One plastic bucket sat in the corner and that was all. He certainly hoped he wasn't going to be there long enough to need the bucket.<p>

He glanced over at the three empty cells. A couple of the thugs had come and hauled the unconscious BA off after Face and Hannibal had been taken away. That had been hours ago.

Murdock crammed his hands into his jacket pockets. There had to be a way out. Maybe Hannibal and Face…no, he couldn't rely on them. For all he knew, they were going to need him to rescue them.

Hearing a note of excitement enter the guard's voices, Murdock perked up. BA was slowly making his way down the hall, with five men trailing behind him. He had his gold back, or at least most of it.

"Hey, big guy, I knew you'd get your gold back, I just knew it!" Murdock stood up and hobbled over to the bars. "Maybe you could pull off some of that magic to get Lefty back for me. I sure do miss the little guy, and he was really nice to talk to. I mean, he listened just as well as he talked, that's hard to find in a shoe sometimes."

BA said nothing. His dark eyes stared off into the distance as a few beads of sweat slid down his forehead.

"Uh, you ok? Big guy?" Murdock pressed his face between the bars, straining for a better look. "You hurt? Come on, tell me what's up."

One of the thugs marched up to the bars and motioned for Murdock to step back. Confused, he moved away and watched as his cell door was opened. He tensed, expecting to be attacked again. Instead, BA began to enter the cell.

Murdock grinned. Finally, their captors had slipped up. His tension faded as BA approached. The big guy didn't look hurt at all. With fists clenched, he looked like his usually milk-loving, healthy, ugly mudsucker self.

"We get to be roomies then, huh?" Murdock made a wide sweeping gesture. "Mi casa es su casa."

There was a snicker of laughter and Murdock glanced over at the guards. They stood, watching expectantly. He felt a twinge of alarm as he noted that the cell door was still open.

"BA?" Murdock stared up at his friend. He was getting a very bad feeling about this. "BA, I don't like.."

"Shut up, fool."

Murdock flinched. That was BA's voice, but somehow it had come out flat, lacking that hidden touch of warmth it usually held. Then there was BA's dull, vacant stare that refused to settle on Murdock; that scared him more than anything else.

"BA are you…"

Murdock gulped down a breath as the fist struck his stomach. Doubling over, he coughed until his eyes watered. Gasping for air, he fought off the urge to vomit. This couldn't be…he would never…it wasn't.

"I said, shut up, fool."

Murdock bit his lip as he timidly glanced up. At least he managed to brace himself for BA's next punch.


	9. Chapter 9 No Sunshine

**Chapter Ten: No Sunshine**

Wine glass cradled in hand, Sarah reclined in her chair. She took a sip of her Chianti. It was marvelous; the perfect complement to the entertainment streaming over her television.

The first strike had been magnificent. He hadn't seen it coming at all, and BA didn't appear to be holding anything back. She smiled as she watched the Captain double over and gasp for air.

Murdock glanced up. His bright, glossy eyes focused on BA. Sarah held her breath, lost in excitement.

"I said shut up, fool."

Wonderful! For a moment, she was able to enjoy the mixture of hurt and confusion etched across the pilot's face. The quivering chin, tight lipped frown and pleading gaze were all so terribly pathetic. He brought to mind a small child lost in an overwhelming crowd. And then BA threw another punch.

Murdock nearly dodged the fist, but it managed to graze his shoulder. Grimacing with pain, he hobbled to the far side of his cell, but BA followed.

Backed up against a wall, Murdock turned. His eyes widened as BA drew near. The Captain opened his mouth to say something, but the words never came.

It wasn't a single strike, but a volley of blows that BA suddenly unleashed. Propped against the wall, it took a while before Murdock sank to the ground. Landing on his side, he gave a loud gasp before coughing out a mouthful of blood.

BA turned away, his jaw clenched and gaze lowered to the floor. None of the guards stopped him as he made his way out of the cell, but five of the men slowly, hesitantly followed him as he walked down the hall. Soon, he was out of the camera's range.

Really, it was a shame; Murdock could have taken more of a beating. One of her hired men slammed the cell door shut and checked its lock.

Taking another sip of Chianti, Sarah watched Murdock sluggishly sit up. Even over the TV, she could hear his strained, uneven breathing. Propped up against the wall, he hugged himself with trembling arms. Lowering his head, his face disappeared under the brim of his hat; only the downturned corners of his mouth and blood speckled chin could be seen.

Sarah waited, wanting more, but all that came was one last exhausted sigh that escaped from the slumped form.

That had ended much too quickly. Still, she had been impressed with Baracus. He had done far better than she had hoped, for this first round, that was. There would be more, and, hopefully, BA would learn to enjoy himself a little more.

She stared at the TV screen, wondering what was going through Murdock's terribly cluttered mind. Was it unfair messing with a crazy man? It didn't matter; she didn't care as long as she had her fun. Ray had given her three days, but really, she would have all the time she needed.

* * *

><p>Face stared at the bottle in the man's hand. It was a decent brand of scotch, not great, but fair.<p>

Hannibal gave a slight shake of his head. "No thanks, I'm really trying to cut back."

Squirming dramatically with his bonds, Face sighed. "I'd love to join you, but I would need a free hand. Do you think you could help me out?"

The man frowned, his gaze moving from Face back to Hannibal.

"Tell me what happened with Sarah in Mexico." He carefully opened the bottle and poured himself a glass. "What drove her to capture you now?"

Face blinked. "Sarah…captured…us?"

"Yes, and then I took you from her."

"I'm sorry, please excuse my rudeness," Hannibal said, "but who are you exactly? And where are we?"

The man stared at his cup as he swirled the liquor around. "You many call me Ray, and you are in my office in Los Angeles, for now."

Face frowned. This guy really wasn't that forthcoming with information. If they could just keep him talking maybe…maybe…uh…the knot still wasn't loose enough for Face to slip his hands free.

"She has your teammates." Ray's attention was still focused on his glass, as if he couldn't decide whether to take a drink or not. "I'm sure they aren't being treated as well as you are. In fact, I really have to wonder if they're still alive."

Ray glanced up. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and he was trembling softly. Face wasn't a doctor, but even he knew something was terribly wrong with this guy.

Hannibal finally broke the uncomfortable silence. "Why exactly did you take us from her?"

"Well," Ray sighed, "I don't think that it matters any longer."

Face grinned. "Hey, maybe you'll just let us go then?"

Ray glared over his desk, but then a crooked smile spread across his face.

"If I let you go, would you try to kill Sarah?"

Hannibal gave the man a hard stare. "We're really not in the business of killing. You don't have to worry about Sarah coming to any physical harm because of…."

"What if she tortured your men? What if they're dead?" Ray's voice became wild, unsteady. "Wouldn't you kill her then?"

Face glanced at Hannibal, but he knew the Colonel wasn't going to reward those questions with answers.

Ray sighed and pressed a little button on his desk. "You know," he said quietly, "Sarah kills everything she comes into contact with." His eye flickered shut and he gave a little groan. "But maybe it was worth it."

The door opened and three men entered.

"Sir, you rang?"

Ray opened his eyes, looking surprised that his men were there. "Yes, I-I did. I'm going to my room. See that these men are…taken care of."

"Like you mentioned earlier, Sir?"

Swaying slightly as he rose, Ray nodded. He stumbled away, leaving the full glass of scotch sitting on his desk. He closed the door as he left.

Face flashed a smile at one of the guards. "I don't suppose you just want to forget about the whole taking care of us thing? If you let us go I give you the number of this fabulous swimsuit model from Sweden. She has these…"

And then the familiar flash of pain struck his arm. Face glanced down and saw the syringe being pulled away.

"Really? Again? What is with you guys and the…the…" Face slumped over, his gaze dancing over the already unconscious Hannibal. "I-I can't believe…passes up Swedish model? Really?"

He gave one last tug at the ropes around his wrists and felt them fall away; then he blacked out.

* * *

><p>BA glanced down at his fists. A few streaks of blood covered his knuckles. He hoped the blood was his own, but he doubted it. He kept walking. The footfalls of the guards echoed behind him. He turned and watched them leave before he continued down the hall. Soon, he'd be back in Sarah's office.<p> 


	10. Chapter 10 Latrodectus Hesperus

**Chapter Ten: _Latrodectus Hesperus_**

Sweating profusely, Ray collapsed onto his bed.

"Sir, can I get you anything?"

He glanced up, eyes straining to focus. Upon recognizing the young guard, he let out a sigh of relief. Shaggy blond hair hung over the young man's worried face. It was good to have such loyal men. Ray smiled.

"I think I'll be fine."

It was a lie. She was killing him, and he knew it; he just didn't know how.

The young man turned to leave but then paused. "Sir, should I call a doctor?"

Ray was considering the offer when another surge of stabbing pain shot through his abdomen. Gritting his teeth, he concentrated on remaining as still as possible. If he could just endure a little longer…then it would pass, but the warm, throbbing persisted.

He clawed at his midsection, catching folds of his expensive dress shirt in his grasp. A deep guttural groan escaped from his throat and he could feel a horrible convulsion taking over his body. Then the pain gradually eased.

Panting for breath, he lay staring up at the ceiling. Did he want a doctor? No, it was too late. He was so tired. He doubted that he would live long enough for help to arrive. With great effort, Ray turned his head and studied the terrified face of the young man watching him.

"If you would like, you many call a doctor." Ray paused, his mouth was so dry. "And, one more thing."

"Yes, anything, sir."

"When Smith and Peck wake up…" He closed his eyes. "…let them go."

"Sir?"

"T-they'll know what to do. I-it's important…so, you'll do that…f-for me?" It was getting so difficult to speak.

"Of course, sir."

Ray sighed. Fighting to stay awake, he listened anxiously to the silence. Finally, he could hear the young man quietly make his way out of the room.

_Sarah…_ His thoughts turned to the woman who was his undoing. Still, even on his deathbed, he longed for her.

Another wave of pain filled him. It was too hard to fight…he had to give in. Pulse weakening, he let the darkness start to drift over him. He knew that Sarah hadn't won, not entirely; Smith and Peck would see to that.

He let out one last breath and his struggle was over.

* * *

><p>BA entered the room without knocking; it was the slightest form of disrespect he could get away with, for now. His muscles ached with tension. He couldn't relax, not after what he'd done. When the time came, when he was free again, she would pay.<p>

Sarah sat near a large window. A wash of pale daylight illuminated her smooth face as she stared outside. The makeshift office was several stories up inside the warehouse, so she craned her neck slightly to get a better view of the ground below. BA stood back, not trusting himself to get too close to the woman. He clenched his jaw, and tightened his fists. His mama had taught him never to hit women, but even she might give him the ok just this once.

He glanced over at the TV set in the corner. On the screen, Murdock sat shivering in his cell. BA closed his eyes and turned away. That was too much. He knew she had been watching, but…but… Rage and shame boiled up inside him, he had to let it out, he had to strike out, to hit something he _wanted_ to, but he couldn't.

BA glared at Sarah. She hadn't yet acknowledged him, but she certainly had to have known he was in the room. He hadn't exactly been quiet entering.

Her dark eyes scanned the ground below, darting rapidly from one location to the next. It was if she was watching small birds scattering about, but BA knew better. He could hear the rhythmic slap of a basketball striking pavement, the steady creak of swings and the random squeals of delighted laughter.

Sarah sighed as she reached over and picked up a walkie-talkie from a nearby table. "Mark one, two and three, stand down. He has returned."

She set the walkie-talkie back down and turned to face BA. He bit his tongue, fighting back the torrent of emotions pressing him to scream his fury at her.

"That really wasn't so hard, was it?" She smiled. "I had been hoping to see if my men really could hit their targets from so far away though. I'm not sure, they might be all talk. Those tiny little bodies are so small and quick. I guess it really is for the best that you've decided to comply."

She rose and strolled over to the TV. BA stiffened as she reached up with her left hand and gently ran her index finger over the image of the Captain; the dark shape, with missing fingers, hovered unnervingly over the blue glow of the screen.

Outside, a bell rang and the sounds of laughter and games ended. BA glanced at the window and shrugged. Earlier, Sarah had demonstrated how she had hacked into the school's alarm system. She could have the children outside again within minutes. Plus, she had described the explosives her men had painstaking hidden throughout the school. There was nothing BA could do so long as school was still in session.

"Go back to your cell." Sarah's words were sharp. "Lay down, sleep, whatever, I don't really care, but do not speak with Murdock. Let him ask a million questions, but…" Her cold eyes shifted to BA. "I don't want to hear you say a word to him. I want you to ignore him."

BA said nothing as he turned to leave. At least ignoring Murdock would be better than…

"And…" Sarah said, bringing BA to a halt. "…after about an hour, I'll send someone in. He'll let you back into the Captain's cell. This time, I want to hear something break. An arm, maybe a few ribs, but no more strikes to the head; I don't want him to lose consciousness."

BA drew in a strained breath. Could he do that again? It had been so hard to force himself the first time.

"Also," Sarah continued, "Remember what we talked about earlier, about what to say?"

BA cringed.

She turned her attention back to the TV. "Good. Do that this time as well and…when he crumples into a piddling pile again, I want you to take his jacket and that stupid hat. I'd like to see his face better and that jacket will be a rather nice souvenir to hang on my wall. Now, go."

BA turned away and quickly fled. He wasn't used to retreat, but he had to get away before she thought of more terrible things to torture Murdock with.

"Hannibal, Faceman," he whispered under his breath. "Where are you? We need you."


	11. Chapter 11 Borrowed Time

**Chapter Eleven: Borrowed Time**

Sarah pretended to keep her gaze on the TV, but her real focus was on BA. It was amusing, the way his gold chains rattled as his bulky frame scrambled out of the room. He was breaking, perhaps even faster than Murdock was. Had she miscalculated? It didn't matter; BA could manage a few more sessions with the Captain and then she would take over.

She shrugged and glanced at the grey sky outside. Somewhere, across town, Ray was dying. He shouldn't have had the strength to take Peck and Smith from her, and that mistake was haunting her. It would be too dangerous to go to Ray's building and take the men back. Everyone would suspect her of his death. They would be too disorganized to come after her, but if she showed up on their doorstep…she shuttered. No, she wouldn't go there.

Smith and Peck would be a problem though. Ray wouldn't have killed them; he needed that leverage over her. So, the men would still be alive, and, in the confusion of Ray's death, they would certainly be able to escape. She would need to hire more guards; the money she had siphoned from Ray's diamond trade was proving to be quite useful.

She strolled across the room and poured herself another glass of Chianti.

_Ray_, she felt an odd stir of emotions as she thought of the man. Was it regret? She had never regretted killing anyone before, but this certainly wasn't the warm satisfaction that normally filled her when she took a life. He had been different. She took a sip of her wine and frowned. Had her feigned passion somehow spiraled into true emotion? No, she wouldn't believe that. Still, the unease in her heart grew. He was gone; she was sure of it.

Closing her eyes, she could almost feel his warm embrace again. But, it was good he was dead. No one could own her, and that's what he had tried to do. He had to die.

She sighed and opened her eyes, letting her gaze fall back onto the TV. BA slowly came onto the screen. Sarah smiled. Soon the fun would begin all over again. After crossing the room, she settled back onto her chair, curled up and made herself cozy.

A delightful new thought came to her. After BA was no longer of use, and before she put a bullet through his head, she'd have one more splash of fun with him. The thrill of her plan replaced any heartache she felt over Ray's death.

She'd need a new place to flee to after it was done. Plus, changing locations would help slow down Peck and Smith while she played with Murdock. It would take some time to find another hideaway though. Perhaps by tomorrow morning she'd be ready. Yes, this she could do.

Tilting her glass, she studied the red liquid. Her thoughts kept drifting to BA. Was this plan too much? Perhaps it was, but the idea intoxicated her and she couldn't abandon it. Making him watch, it would certainly break him.

Sarah smiled. Yes, she would go through with it. After all, wasting all those explosives in the school would be a real shame.

* * *

><p>BA took his time heading back to the basement. A few guards gave him questioning glances as they saw him wandering around, but, as long as he kept moving toward the cells, no one tried to stop him. He thought briefly of trying to get a message to Face and Hannibal, but how? He didn't even know where to find them, and those kids… He couldn't do anything to endanger those kids.<p>

The basement felt a lot cooler than the rest of the building. BA peered up at the ceiling and searched. It was well concealed, but he managed to find Sarah's camera. Murdock probably hadn't noticed it.

He glanced over at the pilot's cell. The man hadn't moved. His thin figure was still leaning against the wall; his head was tilted down, hiding his face. Only the gentle rise and fall of his chest suggested that he was soundly asleep. BA stared at the Captain's feet. That just wasn't right. Sure that squeaking was annoying, but who takes away a crazy man's shoe? He'd noticed that earlier, along with Murdock's limp. He'd make whoever did that pay. He'd make whoever hurt his friend… The thought trailed off. BA frowned and turned away. He had injured Murdock far worse, and he was going to hurt him even more.

He entered the cell across from Murdock's, relieved that the Captain hadn't woken upon his return. That's the last thing he needed, those pitiful brown eyes staring over at him.

A guard snickered and BA spun around just in time to see the man slam his cell door closed. Murdock jumped and gave a tiny gasp at the noise. Obviously disoriented, the Captain wildly glanced around.

"BA?" Murdock blinked. "Big guy is that you?"

BA bit his lip. He couldn't answer. It was killing him, but he couldn't.

Murdock rose and stumbled forward. He wrapped his hands around the bars, his knuckles turning white with strain. A timid smile was on his face, but he didn't seem able to hold it for long. The crazy man's sad, questioning eyes finally made BA turn away.

"BA?"

He'd give up. After a while, Murdock would go quiet. BA crossed his arms and stared at the concrete wall in front of him. _Why was she doing this?_

Murdock sighed. "BA, did I do something wrong?"

BA closed his eyes. He had to think of something else, something that wasn't this horrible place.

"I-I'm sorry, BA…"

That was too much. BA forced himself to stay still. If he looked back, if saw that face again, he doubted he could stay silent. That crazy fool, saying he was sorry when he didn't even do anything. BA let his mind wander back to last Thanksgiving when the guys and him had been at his mama's house. That had been fun. Face had flirted with the neighbor lady, Hannibal had helped carve the turkey, and Murdock had taught Billy how to fetch slippers, even though there was no dog. Fool.

He could hear the Captain shuffling around in his cell, but he ignored him. He had to keep his thoughts elsewhere, otherwise he was going to end up as crazy as Murdock.

* * *

><p>The young man parked the white van and stared into the back. Smith and Peck were still out cold. The sedative they had been given had been quite strong. It would be almost 16 more hours until they woke. He could have given something to wake them sooner, but that had not been what Ray had asked. He wanted to obey his leader's last wishes as fully as he could.<p>

Still, that hadn't stopped him from stocking the van with a few things Peck and Smith might need upon waking. Guns, grenades, food and a blueprint of Sarah's building sat next to the unconscious men. Ray's tiny empire was falling; the young man knew that, so he needn't worry about retaliation from this A-Team. All he wanted was for Sarah to pay for what she had done.

He set the keys on the driver's seat along with a note before he locked the van doors and walked away. The rest would be up to them.

* * *

><p>BA's cell door creaked open. Breaking out in a cold sweat, he glanced over at the guards. It was time...<p> 


	12. Chapter 12 Broken Toys

**Chapter Twelve: Broken Toys**

BA took a deep breath. They could get through this. Everything would be ok…wouldn't it? The guards shifted nervously as BA approached Murdock's cell. One of the men reluctantly came forward. BA glared at the man as he fumbled with the keys to the lock. It would have been so easy to overpower him, to get the keys and free Murdock, but…

The door swung open.

Inside the cell, Murdock stood, waiting. With his weight awkwardly balanced on his right foot, he swayed a little. Lightly clenched fists hung loosely at his sides. For a moment, BA wondered if the pilot was going to fight back, but then he studied the Captain's pale face. His mouth was tensed in a wry little grin and there was a hopeful, determined twinkle in his eyes; Murdock was planning to escape.

BA knew that look; he had seen that silent knowing glance before. The crazy man thought he was going to be rescued. He still thought BA was there to help, but he was wrong.

As subtly as he could, BA gave a weak shake of his head. It had been so slight a move, he hoped Sarah hadn't noticed.

The tight-lipped smile eased from Murdock's face and the sparkle in his eyes grew dull. His gaze dropped to the floor as his fists relaxed. Finally, he sighed and closed his eyes.

"Ok, I'm ready."

BA flinched at Murdock's voice. It hadn't sounded frightened or angry; it was just…well, Murdock.

The door slammed shut as soon as BA stepped into the cell. He scowled back at the guards, but the metal bars between them seemed to give the men new courage; they jeered and hollered at him to begin.

BA turned back to find Murdock trembling. He still had his eyes closed and his shoulders were hunched slightly. His face was pinched with a sort of dread that BA had never seen before. The pilot was whispering something under his breath, but it was too quiet to hear.

Sarah was watching. BA knew that. He had to start, but how could he? No, he just had to…

Lunging forward, he sunk a fist into Murdock's stomach. It landed in the same place as his earlier punch. BA hadn't meant to, it was instinct. He had struck at the weak spot.

Murdock doubled over, leaning into BA. Rushes of hot breath tickled BA's bare arms as Murdock coughed violently.

BA pushed the man away, and watched in embarrassment as the Captain sunk to the ground. It wasn't enough; he knew she wouldn't be satisfied yet. He had to do as she said.

"Pilots aren't that hard to find. We don't need you around, fool!"

Murdock winced at the words far more than he had the punch.

"You know why we have ta send you to the VA?"

The pilot glanced up, with a quivering lip.

"We need a break from you! You drive everyone crazy…Not just me neither, fool. Hannibal and Face feel the same way."

BA stepped forward, grabbed Murdock by the collar and hauled him to his feet.

"There ain't no dog." BA tightened his grip. "There ain't so such thing as talking shoes, Face and Hannibal don't want to babysit a grown man anymore and I'm getting tired of you tricking me, drugging me and getting me on planes that you crash."

Murdock didn't struggle; he just hung there, with his gaze averted away from BA.

BA couldn't take much more. He wanted to give up, to tell Murdock that those were all Sarah's words; it was what _she _told him to say. But he had gone this far already, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if anything happened to those kids. When it was all over, Murdock would forgive him, right?

He released the Captain and watched as he weakly managed to stay on his feet. One more good punch and it would be over.

"Besides…" BA hated himself for this. "You're not really a member of the team anyways."

He jabbed out, catching Murdock in the chest. There was a sickening wheeze that came from the pilot as the strike hit. BA stepped back, letting his friend drop to the ground again.

It was done. Sarah had gotten to see him break bones. That last punch had to have cracked at least two ribs.

Murdock sat, arms protectively hovering over his chest. He let out a cough and then winced in pain. BA bent down, unfolded the man's arms and slowly unzipped his jacket. Murdock tried to pull away but, hampered by pain, he soon gave up. BA forced one arm and then the other out of the sleeves. The jacket came free, revealling Murdock's blue tee-shirt that read _'Parlez-vous français?_'

Finally, he grabbed the baseball cap off the Captain's head; Murdock's fluffy brown hair was a tangled mess.

BA turned to leave but stopped at the sound of a low whimper. Suddenly, Murdock clung to him, yanking at the jacket. Trying to be gentle, BA pushed him away, but the Captain slipped and fell headfirst into the bars. Then, he crumpled to the ground.

"Murdock…Hey fool!"

He didn't move; this was bad. BA stepped closer. Murdock's eyes were closed and a thin stream of blood trickled down this temple. BA glanced up at the camera. He couldn't undo the damage now.

A guard opened the cell door and BA shrugged. Sarah would be expecting him, and she wouldn't be happy.

* * *

><p>Murdock could hear BA make his way out of the cell, but he didn't dare open his eyes. Playing possum was probably his best option at the moment. If he could just buy some time, then maybe Hannibal and Face could save him, because he was really starting to doubt that BA could.<p>

He wanted to roll over into a more comfortable position, but it was too risky. Instead, he lay there, straining for breath, shivering from the cold and pain, and wondering why the heck everyone kept taking his clothes. It was like a horrible game of strip poker, and he didn't think he was winning.


	13. Chapter 13 A Penny for Your Thoughts

**Chapter Thirteen: A Penny for Your Thoughts**

Sarah glared up at her door. He was out there, in the hall, waiting. How long had she made him stand there, an hour, two? He deserved it. She had been very specific about what he had to do.

She turned her attention to the TV screen; Murdock still lay motionless on the cell floor. BA would pay for that mistake, and it would be far more uncomfortable than simply being forced to wait around.

"Come in now." It was a simple command, but she knew he would obey.

BA slipped through the doorway with downcast eyes. Murdock's jacket hung limply over the Sergeant's right arm. In his hands were the twisted remains of the baseball cap. Sarah smiled as she watched the man nervously wring the hat.

Through Sarah's open window came the shrill ring of a bell.

"At least you've managed to bring those along." She nodded at the two articles he carried.

His eyes flickered up and met her gaze, but only for a moment. Still, she had seen it. She had spotted that flare of rage inside him. A thrill filled her. She had watched for far too long. It was time to get her hands dirty.

"You know," she strolled over to the window, peering down at the children running chaotically through the playground. "Their recess lasts half an hour."

She paused, letting him think that over, before she turned to watch him.

Sarah smiled. "I would like you to bring Murdock to me now."

The muscles in his jaw bulged; she could almost hear his teeth grinding. Without taking her eyes off him, she picked up her walkie-talkie and pressed the button.

"Mark one, two and three, get into position. Go in ten."

BA's gaze met hers again. His rage had been replaced by fear and concern; she savored in this. Had she ever had anyone so totally under her control before? Perhaps, but they had always been somewhat willing participants. Controlling BA was turning out to be far more gratifying.

"You've got less than ten minutes before the shooting starts. Bring me Murdock. If you don't, recess will end rather tragically."

The jacket and hat fell to the floor as BA turned and ran for the door. A little sigh of laughter escaped from Sarah. Whether he made it back in time or not, this would prove to be very entertaining.

* * *

><p>Murdock couldn't stand the silence any longer; mainly, he couldn't stand <em>his own<em> silence. His nerves were getting the better of him and the best way to calm them was with a little chatter, but he had to keep quiet. They had to think he was still unconscious; otherwise they would…What would they do? Would they send BA after him again? He shivered. How had they made BA do that?

He sucked in another short breath. His lungs were begging for more air but too much brought searing pain through his ribs. He really wanted to sit up, to stretch out a little. Maybe another position would allow him to take in a really good deep breath. It was so tempting.

And sleep was impossible; he was in too much pain. Each intake of oxygen became less and less just so he could endure the agony of his broken ribs.

Finally, he could suffer through no more. Groaning, he raised his head and peered around. BA was nowhere in sight. That was good, right? He frowned; this was still really confusing.

Gradually, he managed to sit up. Reaching over, he grabbed hold of a bar and pulled himself upward. Standing was tricky; he wobbled a little but found that he was finally able to breathe easier.

"Ok, it's time to escape…but how?"

Murdock hadn't actually realized he had said anything out loud until he heard the guards burst into laughter. Yeah, announcing his escape plans probably wasn't going to help him out. What he needed was a plan, but what he really needed was Hannibal, Face and maybe BA, maybe.

Just then, BA burst down the hall and skidded to a halt in front of Murdock's cell.

"Open the door!" BA's wild eyes were fixed on one of the guards. "Open it, fool!"

In seconds, the door was opened. The guards stood back as BA hurried into the cell.

"You need to come with me, now!"

Murdock took a shaky step back but then nodded. He flinched as BA reached over and grabbed his wrist.

"We gotta hurry." BA said before pulling Murdock forward.

They sprinted down the hall; Murdock's left ankle throbbed, but he ignored the pain. An ember of hope started to grow inside him. This felt an awful lot like an escape.

"BA, I knew that…" but he couldn't get the words out as they started storming up a set of stairs.

Wheezing for air, Murdock decided to save the banter for later. He glanced up at BA and grinned. They were going to be alright! Everything was ok! They'd find Hannibal and Face and…

Murdock stumbled and BA yanked him, none too gently, to his feet. They were moving so fast. Couldn't they just slow down a little? It was so hard to keep up. Murdock tripped again, pain flaring through his body.

Ba turned around. He didn't look mad, and that's what made Murdock nervous. There was a sense of helplessness in the big guy's watery, dark eyes.

Murdock offered a weak grin as he wobbled to his feet. "Ok, I'm ready."

They topped the stairs and then raced to another stairwell. Murdock followed as best he could, but exhaustion was starting to take over. Swaying, the Captain hardly noticed when they had stopped climbing. Where were they, another hallway?

BA started to run, dragging Murdock behind him. Suddenly, the big guy pushed open a door and heaved the pilot into the room.

Murdock blinked. He would have fallen over if BA hadn't grabbed him by the shoulders. This wasn't an escape. Hope quickly faded away. Fighting back tears, Murdock stared across the room.

Sarah smiled, meeting his gaze. "I forgot. What did I say I was going to do to you again? Oh, yes…that's it. I recall now…I think it had something to do with you dying."

* * *

><p>Hannibal fought desperately against the foggy dreamland engulfing him. He needed to wake up. His men needed him. The struggle continued until he had at last managed to open his eyes just a sliver. Through his lashes he could see daylight streaming through a window. Then, the darkness started to overtake him again. He could feel it. The drugs were still too strong. He wouldn't be able to stay awake much longer. He wouldn't be able to help his team, not yet. Disappointed, he continued his futile battle, but soon his eyelids flickered closed again.<p> 


	14. Chapter 14 An Eye For An Eye

**Chapter Fourteen: An Eye for An Eye**

Murdock swallowed, trying to force away the growing knot in his throat. Was it better that he knew who was behind this elaborate setup? He eyed Sarah anxiously.

Her thin lips were stretched in a strained smile, but it was an emotionless, frozen grin; it reminded him of the vacant features of a child's doll. In her deadened stare, a lone, eerie excitement slowly grew. Anyone else might have missed that peculiar twinkle in her eyes, but Murdock knew it well. She was letting her crazy show, and it was the bad kind of crazy.

"He's here." The big guy's voice was urgent, nearly frantic.

Sarah's gaze shifted to BA. Murdock had to stop himself from letting out a sigh of relief. He had started to feel like a jackrabbit staring down a wolf. Maybe BA would fare better.

A strange chirped laughter rose out of Sarah as she reached for a walkie-talkie.

"Mark one, two and three…" She paused, carefully studying BA. "… reset."

Confused, Murdock felt the urge to turn and see the big guy's reaction, but he didn't have to. A frustrated sigh, followed by a very quiet mumble of dissent came from the Sergeant.

Sarah set the walkie-talkie on a table and pushed a button on a tiny black digital clock; instantly, its red numbers began to count down.

"Ten minutes can seem like a lifetime." Her smile vanished. "Can't it?"

Murdock shrugged, looking away. That's when he saw them. Pinned to the wall was his trusty jacket. What had she done? It was too much! And his faithful hat lay twisted and wounded on her desk atop a stack of files. Then his eyes scanned over a TV set and settled on…Lefty.

On the desk, not far from his hat, Lefty sat. Scuffed and beaten, the shoe was scarred with burn marks and unidentifiable stains. One dirty, frayed lace hung limply off the side of the desk. Murdock tried to take a step forward, but BA held him back.

"Oh," Sarah turned and picked up the lone shoe. "Isn't this yours? I suppose your foot is getting cold, too bad. You know, my foot got cold once too. Someone took my shoe back then. Perhaps it's karma that you lost yours?"

Nine minutes to go. What was the countdown for?

She stepped toward BA and Murdock. "Hold him."

BA's hands slide down Murdock's arms and stopped at crooks of his elbows. Murdock flinched and tried to pull away, but the Sergeant's grip quickly tightened. A shock of pain ran through Murdock's chest, and he gave a surprised little gasp.

"This isn't really about shoes though, Captain." Sarah said quietly, letting the shoe drop to the floor.

Murdock tried again to free himself, but it was no use. Stabbing pains shot through his side as he panted weakly for air.

"You remember when we met right?"

He couldn't help himself; he laughed. "Yeah, my memory from that day is a bit fuzzy, but I think I remember you. Bunions, right?"

She frowned. "Jokes? Now? Really? I think this is neither the time nor the place."

He glanced at the clock. Seven minutes left.

"BA?" Murdock tried to hide the pain in his voice, but it was difficult. "Hey, BA, what is the…"

"He can't speak to you at the moment." Sarah took another step closer. "I won't let him, and he'll do exactly as I say."

"BA? It's ok big guy…you d-don't have to say anything."

Sarah leapt forward, her reddened face hovering in front of Murdock's.

"He does what I say! What I say! Not what you say! Do you understand?" Her voice was shrill, almost unrecognizable.

Murdock nodded; his eyes widening as she gradually raised her left hand for him to see.

"This is about you doing me harm," she paused to study her hand. "And about me needing to finish what I started."

Six minutes left on the clock.

"Um," Murdock eyed the nubs where her fingers should have been. "In all fairness, that _really_ wasn't my fault."

With a frown creasing her face, she focused her eyes on him.

He grinned nervously; this was probably a huge mistake. "I mean, you're the one who pulled the trigger. You kind of shot your own fingers ...it's, um, your fault?"

Her nostrils flared as she glared back at him and then something unexpected happened. A calmness swept over her. All the strain of rage simply faded from her face.

"If that is how you see things…" She smiled softly.

The countdown reached five minutes.

Still holding up her hand, she turned it so the palm faced Murdock. Slowly, she reached toward him until the disfigured hand hovered over his broken ribs. He could feel her warmth radiating through his shirt.

"But…" Her smile grew. "…That's not how I see things."

Her hand pressed forward, clawing at his ribs. He stiffened as the pain tore through him. His legs went weak, and BA grunted as the entirety of the Captain's weight fell back against him. Murdock flailed, straining for even a single breath, but he could draw nothing in. He wanted to shout, to cry, to whimper, but sound was beyond him. The world spun and darkened and still the pain came. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see her horribly bliss filled face any longer.

Then, he was on the floor gasping for air. BA stood over him, face tense with concern. The big guy opened his mouth then quickly snapped it shut as he glanced over at Sarah.

She stood a ways off, staring out a window.

Two minutes remained.

Murdock rose to his knees. A countdown usually meant something bad, right? BA didn't seem able to stop it, so maybe… He reached up, grabbing a hold of the desk for support, but he accidently knocked the stack of files to the ground.

Fumbling around, Murdock slipped a few scraps of paper into his pants' pocket. Hopefully, no one had noticed.

"I said…" Sarah turned and stared angrily at BA. "…shoot him."

Murdock glanced up. According to the countdown, he had only been unconscious for maybe two minutes. That wasn't a lot of time; so, when exactly had BA gotten a gun?

BA frowned, his eyes moving from the clock toward the Captain. One minute left. He raised the gun; his hands trembling as he aimed down at Murdock.

From outside, a chorus of youthful laughter sounded as tiny voices began to chant _'red rover, red rover_.' Murdock closed his eyes. He understood.


	15. Chapter 15 Red Rover

**Chapter Fifteen: Red Rover**

Murdock drew in a shaky breath as he heard BA cock the gun.

"I'm sorry…" The Sergeant whispered.

_Click._

For a moment, no one moved. Finally, Murdock cracked open one eye. BA lowered the gun; his face a wash of disbelief and revulsion as Sarah's laughter cut through the silence.

"A shame…" She cooed. "…it seems I forgot to load it."

BA released the pistol and it fell to the floor with a hollow thud.

Murdock opened his other eye and stared over at Sarah. She still sat by the window, the walkie-talkie resting in her hand. A few shrieks of children's laughter sounded from outside.

Nearby, the clock continued its countdown. Thirty seconds to go. He shivered. What did she want? How could they stop her?

Sarah sighed loudly before raising the walkie-talkie. "Mark one, two and three…takedown at bell if radio silence persists."

From down in the schoolyard, the youthful chant of '_red rover' _started over again, just as the countdown reached zero.

"Chemise intéressante."

Murdock blinked. What had she said? His brain hazily switched from English to French. _Interesting shirt? _He glanced down at his tee-shirt. Blood stains, dried and crusted, speckled the cloth, but the words were still legible.

"Merci." The word came out before he could stop it.

Her grin widened. Slowly, she rose and sauntered across the room, halting briefly to scoop Murdock's left shoe off the floor. Strolling up to the Captain, she dropped the sneaker beside him.

Sarah stared down at him. "Je vous laisserai prendre votre chaussure avec vous."

Murdock stayed silent this time as he hesitantly reached over and grabbed Lefty. Why was she letting him take it? Unsteadily, he got to his feet, cradling the wounded shoe in his hands.

She studied him a moment before turning her attention to BA. The large man hadn't moved. He stood, eyes wide, staring at the ground.

"Sergeant." Sarah's voice was sharp, crisp. "In eight minutes recess will end. I want you back in your cells before the children line up to go inside. If you don't…well…little ducks all in a row are tempting targets."

BA nodded, but it was a slow, dull movement. He turned away, staggering toward the door. Murdock watched, unsure of what to do, until the big guy cast one pleading glance back at him. That was all it took. He tried to ignore Sarah's tiny hiss of laughter as he limped toward the door.

"You'll have to move faster than that," she said. "You've only got seven minutes now."

Murdock gritted his teeth. This was going to hurt. The warm throb in his ankle had grown, but he couldn't do anything about that at the moment. He gave Sarah one last glance; her face was smug, triumphant.

BA slid out of the room, and Murdock could hear him quickly making his way down the hall. Bracing himself for the discomfort, the Captain dashed out the door and frantically limped to catch up with the Sergeant.

During the first flight of stairs, Murdock almost caught up with the big guy, but then BA sped up. Murdock panted for air. Each step brought a new wave of pain tearing through his ankle. He must have torn something; it was impossible to flex the joint any more, but he still managed to limp along on it. Sharp flashes of pain shot through his ribs as well; it was hard to keep moving forward while trying to keep his upper body as still as possible.

"BA…" he called out as he saw a flash of gold hurrying around a corner. "P-please…I can't…."

Everything went fuzzy. It was no use. He could feel himself starting to topple forward, down the stairs, and then BA caught him.

"It's ok crazy man. I'm here."

Eyes closed, Murdock sighed. "I-I'm s…sorry."

He could feel BA tense up.

"Don't be sorry," BA barked, but his words softened after that. "It's my fault. Can you keep going if I help?"

Murdock opened his eyes and nodded weakly. He didn't want to be carried, and he knew that would be the next option.

BA guided them along quickly. The race back became a dizzy mixture of agony and exhaustion for Murdock. He tried his best to keep going, but he could feel himself leaning heavier and heavier on BA. Soon, the big guy was gently lowering Murdock to the floor of his cell.

"T-thanks." Murdock smiled.

BA frowned and glanced up at the ceiling. At first the Captain saw nothing, but then he noticed the dim flash of a red light coming from a vent. It must have been a camera. His mind flashed back to the TV in Sarah's office.

The Sergeant moved out of Murdock's cell and shut the door before returning to his own. Guards stepped forward and checked to make sure both prisoners were secure. Satisfied, they turned and positioned themselves at the end of the hall.

Murdock wanted to say something, anything, to BA, but he knew the big guy wouldn't be able to answer. It would be cruel. He sighed and dug his hands into his pants' pockets. The crumbled bit of paper in one pocket brushed roughly against his knuckles. Careful to hide his actions from the camera, he pulled the paper out and unfolded it.

He grabbed Lefty and positioned the paper beside the shoe, so that anyone watching over the camera would simply think he was staring at the worn sneaker.

The thin, black cursive scrawled across the yellow notebook paper was elegant and easy to read. It was partial list of phone numbers and names. Murdock scanned down the page. He recognized the names; they were mostly past clients of the team. A few brief sentences had been more hastily added below many of the numbers. His eyes swept over the information. Some of it mentioned Billy, Face's dealings with women, Hannibal's talk of the Aquamaniac or some small falling out among team members. Most of it would have been useless, but not to Sarah.

Murdock wadded the paper and put it back in his pocket. At least he knew now; BA hadn't meant anything he said. She had put the words in the big guy's mouth, and for that, she was going to pay.

* * *

><p>Sarah watched BA shuffle Murdock into his cell. Time wise, they had been cutting it close, but she didn't imagine Murdock could move too swiftly in his state.<p>

"Mark one, two and three…stand down." She set the walkie-talkie aside; she wouldn't need it any longer.

She had liked the look on Murdock's face when she had given him back his shoe. His confusion was almost as delicious as his pain.

On the screen, she watched him stare at his shoe. He probably still didn't have clue. Soon he would break completely. He was injured, BA had turned on him, Face and Hannibal weren't around… That last thought stuck with Sarah. Why weren't they around? They should have attempted some idiotic rescue already.

She walked to her desk and picked up the phone. It was a risk, but, with a few calls, maybe she could track them down. She was getting pretty tired of Baracus; two shiny new toys would suit her just fine.


	16. Chapter 16 Esc

**Chapter Sixteen: Esc**

Murdock slept. It was a dreamless slumber brought on by pure exhaustion, and he hadn't tried to fight it in the least.

He woke slowly, shivering. The concrete floor had drained the warmth from him. Drawing in a pained breath, he shifted, trying to find a position that offered more protection from the cold seeping into him. It was useless. He fought back a whimper, trying not to think of his jacket pinned to Sarah's wall.

Biting his lip, he let his eyelids flutter open. Little had changed. He must not have been asleep for long. The same guards remained positioned at the end of the hall. BA still sat glaring up at Sarah's camera; his brow deeply furrowed and dark eyes shining with hatred.

Murdock coughed weakly as he sat up. Everything hurt. Sure, some things hurt more than others, but in the grand scheme of things, everything now hurt.

He glanced over at BA. The big guy stood, staring back at Murdock. Whatever anger he held for Sarah had vanished from his face. Instead, he looked lost, worried and, mostly, scared. Wanting to reassure the Sergeant, Murdock flashed him a toothy grin, but it didn't seem to ease the man's concern. No, he must have noticed the Captain's quivering body.

Murdock tried to stop it; he tried to force himself to be still, but he couldn't. Plus, his struggle only seemed to agitate BA more. The big guy pressed himself against the bars, eyes desperately scanning the injured pilot.

"s'okay. I'm alright. Just take it easy, Muchacho."

BA made no indication that he heard Murdock; his dolefully gaze didn't falter. And then, footsteps began to echo down the hall.

It sounded like more than one person…maybe Face and Hannibal? Murdock leaned forward, hopefully eyeing the dark hall. The possibility of freedom, of feeling warmth, of food and sleeping in a soft bed, all fed his anticipation as a figure emerged from the shadows.

Sarah grinned. "Did you miss me?"

Murdock let out a deep, rolling sigh.

"I'll take that as a no." She gestured at one of the guards to open BA's cell.

As the door opened, a lanky man emerged out of the shadows behind Sarah; he carried an IV bag and stand.

"Mr. Baracus," Sarah calmly entered his cell. "Please take a seat. You will let my man here place this IV and you will remain still until the drugs have fully kicked in. Once they have done so, you will find it quite impossible to move. Don't worry, you will be able to remain conscious, if you so choose, but you will not be able to move."

Murdock could see BA tense up. Still standing, the Sergeant peered over at Sarah and gave a low growl.

The smile never left her face. "School is almost out for the day. Soon all those children will be outside, in the open. Do be a dear and sit down, before I'm forced to do something you'll regret."

Reluctantly, BA complied. He furiously eyed the thin man as he placed the IV. The drip began and for a few minutes, they all just sat staring at BA. Slowly, he slumped back against the concrete wall. His body began to relax, arms resting heavily at his sides. Soon, it became apparent that he only had control over the gentle rise and fall of his chest and the sluggish blinking of his eyelids.

"That's a good boy." Sarah gave the Sergeant's Mohawk a gentle pat. "But…just so you know, in the morning, as soon as the school is packed, I'm going to blow it all up. Don't worry, you'll get to watch."

BA's eyes widen. His gaze darted from Sarah to Murdock.

She laughed. "You think the Captain is going to help you? Have you seen him lately? Do you think he could help _anyone_ in his condition? Plus, you were the one who did that to him."

She turned and walked out the cell; the lanky man followed, shutting the door behind him. This time, Sarah didn't even have to motion to the guards; they swiftly had the Captain's cell open for her.

Murdock wanted to stand, to stare her down, but he didn't want her to see him struggle to rise and, perhaps, fall. He did his best to look threatening from his seated position, but, judging by her amused smile, it wasn't working.

"Hold him."

At her command, two guards rushed over and grabbed Murdock's arms. He didn't struggle; he knew he hadn't the strength to fight them off.

She leaned down, her warm breath tickling his ear. "I will blow up that school and all those children, and I will make Baracus watch. And, just between you and me, I will shoot him right between the eyes after I get to see his big dopey heart break."

Murdock lunged toward her, but the guards held him firm. He lashed out, ignoring pain. They wouldn't hurt BA, they wouldn't hurt those kids; he wouldn't let them. Freeing one arm, he managed to punch one of the guards; the man shouted a curse before restraining the Captain once again. Soon, Murdock was panting for breath, totally exhausted.

"Left hand." Sarah voice was stern.

Murdock felt one of the guards force his left hand up; he tried to pull it back, but couldn't. He looked up and saw Sarah studying the hand offered to her.

Her delicate hand wrapped around his ring finger. For a moment, he basked in the warmth of her touch. Anything to fight off the cold was welcomed. And then, she snapped his finger back.

He jerked and gave a yelp, but the guards held him still. Slowly she reached over and wrapped her warm hand around his middle finger. He squeezed his eyes closed; he'd be prepared this time. She snapped the finger back, but he stifled his cry.

Laughter sounded followed by the steady patter of shoes. Suddenly, the guards released him. He crumpled to the floor, pain flaring through his chest and hand. Opening his eyes, he watched Sarah disappear down the hall. Only one guard remained behind this time. They must not have thought Murdock and BA were much of a threat any longer.

Tentatively, Murdock reached over and felt the disjointed knuckles on his left hand. He couldn't leave them that way, but fixing them was going to hurt. After a moment's hesitation, he popped the joints back into place. This time, he couldn't contain his cry of pain.

He glanced over at BA. The big guy stared helplessly back at him; the look of despair in his eyes was heartbreaking. And that was it; that was the final straw. Murdock licked his lips and glared down the hall at the lone guard. There was no way he was going to let Sarah win; he had a plan.


	17. Chapter 17 Of Kindness and Keys

**Chapter Seventeen: Of Kindness and Keys**

BA sat, trapped by his own body. He had tried, when Sarah snapped the crazy man's fingers, to rise, but no matter how much he willed himself to move, nothing happened. He watched helplessly as the guards released the pilot; the man fell to the floor, shivering violently.

Before leaving, Sarah had paused to grin over at the Sergeant; she said nothing, but he could see the sparkle in her eyes. She had won. Everything he had done, all the hurt he inflicted on Murdock had been for nothing.

She gave one last gentle laugh and then left. Another cry of agony sounded from the Captain's cell; BA glanced over and found Murdock's face tense with pain as he stared down at his left hand. He must have been resetting the dislocated knuckles; BA grimaced at the thought. Then, the fool looked up, his gaze meeting BA's.

For all he had been through, the crazy man hadn't lost that tender innocence in his large brown eyes. They stared at each other for a moment. The pain eased off Murdock's face, but he still trembled. Suddenly, there was a new found focus to the fool's stare; there was an angry determination that hung in his eyes and the tight frown of his mouth.

"Did you know…" Murdock said, a grin slowly stretching across his face. "…that the adjectival word for armadillo is tolypeutine? So if I called something tolypeutine, it would mean armadillo like. Isn't that interesting?"

BA blinked. Ok, that he hadn't expected.

"Buteonine is buzzard like. Sciurine is squirrel like and vermian is worm like." Murdock groaned a little as he pulled himself back so he could lean against the wall. "And there were 29,066 different words used by William Shakespeare in his works; that guy had quite the vocabulary!"

BA scanned through his memories. Was this some sort of code? No, it didn't make sense. He would have shrugged if he could have; it was just jibber-jabber.

"And there has never been a President of the United State who was an only child. Can you believe that? As an only child, I find that very discouraging."

Closing his eyes, BA listened to the crazy man's banter; he didn't really have a choice. Still, though he would never admit it, the constant, gentle flow of the Captain's voice felt very soothing.

For hours, the fool kept spouting off random tidbits of information, theories about cartoon characters and recipes for odd dishes BA had no intention of ever trying.

"…and in 1849, Walter Hunt invented the safety pin…"

Murdock's hoarse voice had gone quiet. Disturbed by the silence, BA opened his eyes. The red camera light in the vent was off. It must have been late; the lone guard was fighting off sleep as he stood propped against a wall. The Captain lay sprawled out on his back with his eyes closed; his shivering was minimal but still present.

BA was about to let his lids slide back closed when Murdock's still form began to thrash. The convulsions violently pitched the pilot about, his arms and legs flopping wildly against the hard floor. Muffled gasps of pain escaped from the crazy man; his back straining in an arch as his body continued to shake.

The guard ran forward, only to stop and stare. BA wanted to yell, to scream at him to do something. Finally, the man flung the cell door open and hurried to Murdock's side. Leaning down, he reached for the Captain's right arm, but he never got any farther than that.

Murdock flung his elbow up, catching the guard hard in the face. He collapsed, falling directly onto the crazy man. A yelp sounded and then the Captain slowly worked himself free. He sat up, blinking rapidly; his face etched with pain as he dug the keys free from the guard's pocket.

It took several attempts, but Murdock finally got to his feet. Earlier, the fool had managed to slip his left shoe back on his injured foot; it was a painful endeavor that BA hadn't understood at the time, but now he did.

His movements slow, Murdock limped toward BA's cell. Pausing to catch his breath, he unlocked the door and leaned against the bars. His pale face glistened with sweat. Carefully, he made his way over to BA. His eyes squeezed shut, Murdock hissed sharply as he crouched down next to the Sergeant.

"Muchacho, I need you to do something for me, ok?"

BA blinked, as that was all he could do. What was the fool up to?

Delicately, Murdock worked the IV free of BA's arm and then he set it loosely back against the big guy's skin. Anyone who didn't know better would think it was still intact.

"It's gonna take a little while before the drugs wear off." Murdock's gaze flickered up to meet BA's. "I need you to stay completely still until then, ok? It's important. If they find out the IV's out too soon…"

He let the sentence trail. They both knew what would happen.

Murdock reached down and placed the keys to the cell in BA's hand, and then he carefully curled the big man's fingers around them so they were hidden from view.

"I-I'll be right back…" He used the wall to pull himself up. "I'm n-not going to leave you h-here, but I gotta go do something f-first. By the time I get back…" He wobbled a little. "…the drugs should be worn off enough, and then…"

He let the words drift off as he made his way out of the cell, closing the door behind him. BA watched his friend weakly maneuver down the hall. Already he could feel his blood starting to clear itself of the drugs. Soon, he'd be himself again, and he pitied any fool that came between him and the safety of his team ever again.

* * *

><p>"Colonel, wake up!"<p>

Hannibal opened his eyes, a weak light flickered overhead. Quickly, he sat up and assessed his situation. Face sat next to him, worry tugging at his handsome features. They were in a van, not their own, but still nicely stocked with supplies. It was dark outside and their only light source appeared to be the tiny dome light of the vehicle.

"Read this," Face said as he held a folded paper out for Hannibal to take.

He scanned the note. Ray was dead; he had ordered their release in hopes that they would kill Sarah. There was a scrawled warning that if they failed to eliminate her, she would most certainly come after them. It was kill or be killed.

Face shifted nervously. "What do you think?"

"Well," Hannibal sighed, "it's certainly not a birthday party invitation."

"They're serious Colonel. They left us with maps, building schematics, weapons, heck they even left us some snacks. And…" Face paused, looking rather unsure. "They might be right about Sarah."

Hannibal stood; his joints creaking. He glanced at his watch; it was zero one hundred on the dot.

"Well, Face," He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his cigar. "I guess we'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it, but, right now, we have some men to go rescue. How about you drive and I think us up a plan?"

Face grinned. "Sounds good."

Hannibal settled into the passenger's seat. He didn't much care for bloodshed, but Sarah had pushed him a little too far. Hurting children just to get at his team was the lowest form of cruelty he could think of. He lit his cigar and stared out the window. They weren't in the business of killing though, but maybe, just this once...


	18. Chapter 18 Ain't No Fool

**Chapter Eighteen: Ain't No Fool**

Murdock stumbled up the stairs. He hated leaving the big guy back there as weak as a little kitty, but he didn't have much of a choice. There was no way he would have been able to haul the Sergeant on his own, not in his current condition. Still, if anything happened to the ugly mudsucker…

He paused, glancing back. What if something did happen? No, he couldn't think like that. With a deep sigh, he began his climb again. He could be quick; BA wouldn't be alone for long.

Slipping by a few guards, Murdock frowned. It was silly, he shouldn't have been upset, but he missed the easygoing squeak of Lefty's voice. He slid into a shadow and stared down at his sneaker. Maybe Lefty understood the need for stealth now? Murdock hoped that was it.

After a few minutes of rest, he resumed his search. His cloudy memories of navigating the building earlier with BA were proving to be fairly useless. Finding himself at a dead-end once again, he was forced to backtrack. Too much time had passed. He hadn't thought it would take so long.

His thin cotton tee-shirt was soon drenched in sweat, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to his skin. At any moment someone was bound to discover that he was missing. How long had it been already, an hour? Murdock quickened his pace, ignoring his body's painful protests.

Rounding a corner, he found a set of stairs he had missed earlier. He hobbled up them and exited into a hallway. This was starting to look familiar. His gaze shifted until it settled on a wooden door. Bingo!

Limping to the door, he held out a shaky hand to grab the knob. If he was lucky, no one would be home. Slowly, he pushed the door inward; the room was dark. He held his breath and reached for the light switch. For some reason, he didn't think it was beyond Sarah to be waiting there in the shadows; she really did fit most of the criteria for a bogeyman, or would that be bogeywoman?

The light flickered on and Murdock exhaled. No one was there, good. Still, he eyed the room nervously. Then, he saw it. The Captain grinned as he hastily limped forward. He had done it! This was paramount; this was the one thing he absolutely couldn't afford to fail.

Reaching over, he grabbed the phone and dialed 555-2406. It had been pretty smart of Hannibal to make them all memorize that number, just in case.

"Hello?" The elderly voice was still husky with sleep. "Who's calling at such a…"

"Ma'am? It's me Murdock, from the A-team. We met briefly. I don't have much time to explain, but…"

"Murdock? The skinny fellow with the hat?"

"Well, lanky maybe." Murdock leaned against the desk. "I dunno if skinny is the best term to describe…ah, well, I'm a bit short on time, so, yeah. Anyway, what I really needed to…"

"That gentleman stopped smoking those cigars in my school, correct?"

From somewhere in the building shouts sounded. His time was up.

Murdock grimaced. "Principal McCarthy! You've got to listen to me, ok?"

"Calm down, I'm listening."

"The phone tree you set up, call everyone. Make sure no one comes to the school tomorrow. Tell them anything you want, but make sure no one comes. Do you understand?" He could hear people thundering up the stairs.

"Is it really…"

"They are gonna kill people, blow up the school maybe…You've got to promise me!"

"I-I promise!" Mrs. McCarthy's voice had lost any trace of sleep to it. "No one will show up at the school. On my life, I promise!"

"Thanks." He slammed down the phone and leapt back toward the wall.

If they were going to find him in Sarah's office, he was going to at least give them a reasonable explanation for being there. Snatching his jacket from the wall, he quickly slipped in on, wincing as he pushed his left hand through the sleeve. He zipped it up and grabbed his hat just as two guards burst into the room.

"Hey guys!" Murdock flashed a wide grin. "I felt underdressed down in those dungeons, but tell me…" Balanced on his right foot, he gave a little twirl. "…does this jacket make my butt look big?"

They sprang forward, grabbing Murdock by the arms. He struggled, snarling and howling as they hauled him out of the room. He kept the act up until they had him all the way back down in the basement. His energy waning, he finally let up as they tossed him into his cell.

He glanced over and found BA still sitting in the same position as earlier. The big guy's dark eyes were fixed on the guards. One of the men had a nasty looking split lip; that must have been the one Murdock elbowed. The other, an older man with blond hair, was someone new.

The blond man laughed. "I can't believe you let that idiot get away. He can barely walk. Sarah would have killed you, literally. You're darn lucky he didn't let that big lug over there out."

Sullenly, the other man stared at BA. "Geez, why would he let that him out? Did you see the beating that monster gave that guy earlier? I mean, the man might be crazy, but I doubt even he is _that_ crazy." He paused for a moment, his gaze still on the Sergeant. "He still can't move, right?"

"Sure, I checked. See?" The blond reached into his pocket and pulled out a lump of gold chains. "He didn't budge an inch, though, if looks could kill…"

They both burst out in laughter. Murdock shifted uneasily in his cell. Did BA really have that much self-control, or had he botched up with the IV somehow? Maybe the big guy really couldn't move. How strong were those drugs they had given him?

Stashing the gold back into his pocket, he blond man looked over at Murdock. "Damn it."

"What?" His partner asked.

"He took the jacket and the hat from Sarah's office. She'll know he was up there." He sighed. "We'll have to take them back."

Murdock crawled to the rear of his cell. Folding his arms, he glared up at the men coming toward him. It didn't matter if this was a fight he couldn't win; he wasn't going to back down.

The guard with the split lip stepped forward. "Hand it over and we won't have to hurt you, ok?"

Murdock didn't move.

"We will hurt you if we have to," the blond added. "Don't test us."

They grabbed him. Murdock yelped as they pried his arms away from his chest. Surges of searing pain cascaded through his ribs and a deep, agonizing throb started in his left hand.

"N-no, no, no, no…." He could hear himself yelling, but he couldn't stop it.

"SHUT UP," The blond yelled before backhanding Murdock. "YOU STUPID FOOL."

The strike disoriented the Captain for a moment, and then he was free. Glancing up, he found the man with the split lip unconscious on the floor, while the blond dangled in BA's grasp.

Eyes bulging, the man clawed at his throat, desperately trying to get BA's massive hands to release.

"He ain't no fool." BA growled.

* * *

><p>Face crept back to the van and found the Colonel finishing his cigar.<p>

"There's got to be about fifty guards wandering around the building, but it's hard to say for sure." Face sighed. "They're like rats, just when you think there aren't anymore, another one pops his head out of hidden corner. So…what's the plan?"

Hannibal laughed; it was a deep, throaty laugh that Face didn't find reassuring. The Colonel was definitely on the Jazz.

"We go in full force."

Face coughed. "W-what? We're outnumbered. It's like twenty to one, maybe thirty to one. That's a little stiff even for us."

Hannibal grinned. "Is that counting Murdock and BA?"

"No, but we don't know if they can even…"

"Well," The Colonel stood up and tossed his cigar aside, "we'd better hope they can fight. It would really help the odds."

Face opened his mouth to object, but then thought better of it. BA and Murdock had been in there too long; they needed out. It might not have been much of a plan, but it would have to do.

"Ok, Colonel…" He flashed his most dazzling grin at Hannibal. "I'm game."


	19. Chapter 19 Nightingale

**Chapter Nineteen: Nightingale**

Murdock couldn't contain his grin. His plan had worked! Although, he was a little alarmed at how much his success had surprised him, but that didn't matter. He had BA and BA had the bad guy and…well, wow, he certainly did have the bad guy. His face flushing a violent red and veins bulging, the blond man continued to flail as the Sergeant's hands squeezed his neck.

"Um…BA?"

The guard's frightened eyes settled on Murdock.

BA gave a low growl. "Not now, fool."

"…but maybe you should…Hey! You just said I wasn't a fool."

"To him, you're not a fool, but to me, you're a fool. Now, be quiet, fool. I gotta get my gold back from this sucka."

Murdock wobbled to his feet and placed his right hand on BA's shoulder. "Come on, amigo. It's time to let go. Please, for old H.M.?"

BA turned and glared. Murdock could see the cold rage boiling in his friend's eyes, but he knew it wasn't meant for him. There was just too much hurt inside the Sergeant, and this was how he let it out.

The guard gurgled, his lips turning blue. Murdock reached up with his left hand, meaning to place it on BA's arm to try and coax the big guy to let go. Instead, the Captain gave a sharp hiss of pain as his wounded fingers brushed BA's bicep. Reeling away, Murdock nearly stumbled to the floor. He drew his left hand in close, cradling it to his body. It was worse than he had thought. Glossy and red, the stretched skin of his inflamed fingers felt ready to split. Ok, swelling was normal; that was fine, but it was the pin-pricking numbness that was really bothering him.

"Let me see." BA's voice was tender yet stern.

Murdock glanced up, finding the Sergeant beside him. Nearby, the blond man lay unconscious on the floor.

"S'okay. It doesn't really hurt." He offered a smile, but BA obviously wasn't buying it.

The big guy leaned closer. "Let me take a look, fool."

Biting his lip, Murdock offered up his hand.

BA's rough hands gentled cupped Murdock's swollen hand as he examined the injuries. The Sergeant's face was calm, maybe not quite serene, but it had the reassuring stillness of parent tending a hurt child.

"Fingers look broke. That's gotta hurt." His eyes met Murdock's. "We'll get you fixed up as good as new once we get outta here, ok?"

Slowly pulling his hand back, Murdock nodded. "How about we get out of here now? That ok, big guy?"

BA grinned. "I'd like to see someone try and stop us."

And then, from inside the vent overhead, the camera's red light turned on.

* * *

><p>Sarah couldn't sleep. She had gone back to her apartment and taken a shower, but, when she went to lie down, her mind wouldn't shut off. There were still too many loose variables. Her main concern was over Peck and Smith. Where had they gone? She had been unable to turn up anything on the men after their escape from Ray's. In fact, she couldn't even get any information on their escape.<p>

Frustrated, Sarah got dressed and drove back to the warehouse. There was still a lot that needed to be done before morning. Nothing incriminating could be left behind after their move. There would be a lot of people interested in investigating the school explosion, and she didn't want to be caught up in that mess, not when she would still have Murdock to play with.

After parking, she slunk into the building. A few guards gave her inquisitive glances, but they knew better than to question her.

She walked into her office and paused. Had she left the lights on? She didn't think so. Gaze shifting around the room, her blood ran cold. The jacket was gone.

Cursing, she darted to the TV. The blue screen flickered on, revealing BA and Murdock outside of their cells. In the background, she could make out the forms of two unconscious guards. BA glanced up first, his eyes narrowing, and then Murdock's tired face turned toward the camera. They had escaped.

* * *

><p>"You know," Hannibal laughed, holding up a dart gun, "these are a lot more fun from this end!"<p>

Face sighed. "I guess, but I'm getting tired of stashing the bodies. How many have we taken out so far?"

The Colonel ran through a quick mental tally. "Seventeen."

"Great, that only leaves another thirty-three or so left to go?" Face shrugged. "This is taking forever."

"It can't be helped, Face." Hannibal reached into his shirt pocket and frowned; he had to remember to get some more cigars. "We don't want to tip our hand. I don't want Sarah doing anything drastic if she sees us coming. Best to keep chipping away at them. We'll have BA and Murdock back soon enough."

Hannibal glanced at his Lieutenant; he didn't seem very convinced. Face's unblinking gaze was settled on the warehouse as he chewed on his lower lip. Ray's words must have been sitting heavily with the young man, as they were certainly still weighing on Hannibal's mind. _Sarah kills everything she comes into contact with. _That was what the man had said, and now he was dead.

"We will get them back." The Colonel placed a reassuring hand on Face's shoulder. "Sarah and her goons won't know what hit them. "

Face opened his mouth to reply, but then an alarm sounded. There was a flurry of activity around the warehouse. Men began shouting, calling out to those who should have been on duty. Suddenly, twenty fresh guards stormed outside, replacing those lost.

"Well, "Hannibal said, really wishing he had a cigar, "that can't be good."

* * *

><p>BA glared up at the camera as the alarm sounded. He knew it was Sarah watching.<p>

"Ain't no kids around now, sucka! I'm tired of playing games. If I find you…"

He felt a gentle nudge at his side. Looking back, he found Murdock's big, brown eyes peering over at him. Hunched and clasping his wounded hand, the fool looked so frail.

"Can we go?" Murdock asked softly.

"Yeah, sure."

BA scowled up at the camera. He had to make sure the fool was safe, and then he could come back and deal with Sarah. She wasn't going to get away; he wouldn't let her.

* * *

><p>Sarah stared at the screen. The murderous glare on Baracus' face set chills up her spine. She drew in a sharp breath. Fear? Was she afraid? That didn't happen very often. She savored in it, letting the adrenaline flood into her system. Her plans in ruins, she smiled to herself. This was just a new kind of game, and it could still prove to be very entertaining.<p> 


	20. Chapter 20 TNT

**Chapter Twenty: TNT **

BA pilfered the pistols off the two guards. He handed one to Murdock, watching as the crazy man tucked it into his waistband. Fool, didn't he know they were going to need that real soon? But then the Captain painfully limped forward, bracing himself against the wall with his uninjured hand. BA cringed. Of course the man couldn't handle a gun and get around; who was the fool now?

"Are you up for this?"

Murdock's face lit up with a huge grin. "Of course, Muchacho, I'm all good."

But BA saw otherwise. The fool could barely put any weight on his left foot, his hand looked useless at the moment and his ashen face was smudged with dirt and blood. He looked horrible.

"I could carry you if…"

"No!" Murdock's eyes widened. "I'm ok, r-really."

BA shrugged. "Fine."

If the fool didn't want to be carried, that was his deal. The Sergeant couldn't really blame him though. Being carried was for sissies, and Murdock wasn't no sissy. Still, he made the fool at least lean on him for support as they started off.

Several times, BA had to leave Murdock's side so he could clear the way of guards. Punching faces never felt so good. He left a wake of broken noses and split lips behind. Finally, they made their way out into the cool night air. Stars twinkled serenely overhead.

"This way," BA said, pulling the Captain away from the warehouse and school.

Two guards leapt out of the shadows. BA only had time to shove Murdock behind him before a shot rang out. Enraged, the Sergeant pushed forward, striking one of the men with a sickening blow. The guard toppled to the ground, face covered in blood. The other turned to flee, but BA grabbed him by the collar and slammed his down. He stood over the two, waiting for movement, but they were both out cold.

"BA!" Murdock gasped. "You took a bullet for me!"

The Sergeant glanced down at his right arm. In the moonlight, he could see a thin trickle of blood. It hardly even hurt.

"Only grazed me," he growled. "I didn't take no bullet for you."

Murdock's studied the wound, before he smiled up at BA. "You took a grazing for me! You really do care. I just knew it! You can't fool me. Under all that grumpy, gold-wearing, muscle-bound toughness, you're just a big softie!"

BA groaned and turned away. He didn't want Murdock to see his relief. He hadn't thought he'd hear that happy excitement in the Captain's voice again or see that look of loving admiration cross his face. How could he be the same old fool as before, after what had happened?

"We gotta keep moving." The words came out softer than BA had intended, and he flinched as Murdock reached forward to lean against him.

"Sorry, Muchacho. I should be more careful with a grazing victim. Did that hurt?"

BA moved back to give the fool better support. Man, the guy was too skinny.

"No. Course it didn't hurt. Now stop your jibber-jabbering and let's get going."

Slowly, they moved. By the time they had reached the far side of the street, Murdock needed to stop for rest. He hadn't asked, but BA knew the guy needed to stop from the sounds of his strained breath. Leaving the Captain leaning against a white van, BA scanned around to see if they had been followed; it seemed like they were in the clear.

"BA, look!"

Alarmed, the Sergeant spun around, ready to attack, but all he saw was an overly ecstatic Murdock holding up some little brown piece of trash.

"Fool, don't go yellin' like that. Thought you were being hurt or something. And where did you get that thing?"

"Off the ground." Murdock's eyes were sparkling with joy. "Isn't it great!"

"That's garbage, fool…put it down. You don't know where that's been. It ain't right just pickin' stuff up off the ground."

"…but." The slightest bit of doubt began to pull at the Captain's face. "I know where it's been."

"Man, put that down. It's dirty."

Murdock let it drop from his hand. "But I _know_ where it's been. That is defiantly the end of one of the Colonel's cigars."

BA turned away, searching the darkness again for any threat. Maybe it was the Colonel's cigar, but maybe not. Hannibal wasn't the only one who…

His thought ended abruptly as he heard a door slide open.

"Hey, it's unlocked!" Murdock chimed.

BA turned to find the fool climbing into the white van.

"Get outta there! That could be anyone's rig."

Murdock leaned out the door, his thumb and index finger pinched together, trapping a single strand of hair.

"Faceman's been here. I'd know his hair color anywhere," he said before disappearing back into the vehicle.

"Man, you crazy! One hair doesn't mean that Hannibal and Face have been here. I don't care what…"

Murdock's head popped out the driver's side window. "What about a note addressed to Peck and Smith? Does that count? I really think this is their van. I mean, the note kinda implies that. Seems some guy by the name of Ray let them go and gave them supplies. I guess he wants Sarah dead or something." He unfolded the note and scanned it. "Oh, and it sounds like this Ray guy is dead now. Looks like Sarah might have killed him. Wow, she really gets around, doesn't she?" The Captain grinned up at BA. "I bet if we wait here, the Colonel and Face will show up, what do you think?"

BA nodded slowly. Yeah, this might be a good place to stash the fool.

"Cool! Look, BA!" Murdock leaned out the window waving around a dart gun. "It's like I'm on safari! Ok, you be a stampeding elephant and I'll…"

"Fool, just stay here and be quiet. If anyone comes, shoot them, ok? I'll be right back."

Murdock lowered the gun. "You're going? Why? Face and Hannibal will…"

"Yeah." BA turned and took a few steps. "They'll be back soon. I'm just gonna see if I can spot them. Stay here, ok?"

"Mm-hm." The response was sullen, unsure.

BA didn't look back. He knew he shouldn't leave the crazy man alone, but he couldn't help it. She had to pay.

* * *

><p>Templeton shifted nervously in the darkness. It didn't matter what was happening, they had to get into that building and soon. He aimed his gun at another guard. <em>Click.<em>

Face cringed. "Aw, geez, I'm out of darts. You got any left?"

"Nope." Hannibal shrugged. "That's it. We left the rest back in the van. Guess we move on to plan B."

Raising an eyebrow, Face stared at the Colonel. "There's a plan B?"

"As soon as I think of it, there is."

Great. That was just…Wait, was that BA? Face nudged Hannibal and then motioned at the large figure moving through the darkness. There was no doubt about it; that was Baracus. But where was Murdock?

Hannibal leaned forward, his face pinched with worry. "What's he doing?"

"I dunno, maybe…"

A sudden explosion drowned out Face's voice. Flames burst from the school as windows shattered outward. Drab blue hues of darkness suddenly gave way to the intense glow of fire. Warmth swept forward, bringing with it the smell of burnt wood and melted plastic.

BA stood, now fully exposed by the light erupting through the school. He scowled at the damage before continuing toward the warehouse.

Face jumped up, ready to yell out to the Sergeant, and then the second explosion rocked the night.

* * *

><p>Sarah smiled. She didn't care anymore if she showed too many emotions. In fact, she let a wicked little giggle escape as she watched flames surge through the school. Yes, she was bursting at the seams, unable to control herself any longer, but it didn't matter. This was too much fun.<p>

And, if she wanted to, she could simply slip away. No one would be able to find her again, not unless she wanted them to. This game was too good though; a little longer, and then she'd go.

Letting the crisp night air wash over her, she pushed the second button on her remote detonator.


	21. Chapter 21 The Downside of Working For

**Chapter 21: The Downside of Working for the Devil**

Hannibal raised his arm, shielding his face from the second blast. A surge of heat struck him, sucking the air from his lungs. He gasped, drawing in acidic smoke, which made his eyes water. Bits of metal and concrete rained down around him, as he squinted at the flaming warehouse. His shock subsiding, he realized that another explosion could occur at any second. After diving for cover behind a car, he glanced around desperately searching for his Lieutenant.

"FACE!" He hollered over the rumble of the building shifting and collapsing.

Face was crouched behind a nearby truck, his concerned eyes focused on Hannibal.

"How's BA?" Hannibal yelled.

Face's wide, fearful eyes narrowed as his brow creased. He peered over the truck bed and scanned the chaos.

"I can see him! Colonel, he's not moving…"

That was all Hannibal had to hear. He couldn't justify risking Face's life, but he certainly wasn't going to stand by and do nothing when one of his men needed him. He blinked until the soot cleared from his eyes.

Hannibal stood and motioned toward Face. "Stay here."

"Colonel, you can't just go out there alone. I should…"

"No. We don't know if there are any more explosives. I want you to stay here, just in case."

He turned and was about to start off when he heard Face's voice, so softly, so miserably, ask the question that had surely been plaguing them both.

"D-do you think…do you think Murdock was in there?"

Hannibal shrugged. "I don't know, kid. I don't know."

* * *

><p>Sarah eyed her handiwork. All her men would be dead or dying as the fire seared them alive. What a truly horrible way to die. It really was too bad Baracus hadn't been inside. She stared at his motionless body. He might have been dead, but she doubted it.<p>

A white haired figure darted toward the Sergeant. Well, wasn't that nice of the Colonel to drop by? She moved back, concealing herself in the shadows of the apartment building. Raising a rifle, she aimed. Then Peck suddenly appeared beside Smith. They argued, but the younger man was obviously not going to be swayed. She smiled. Now the choice was hers. Smith or Peck? Her eyes shifted from one to the other. They would both die, but which to shoot first?

Making her choice, she aimed. Either way, this would be immeasurably amusing, but she felt like forcing the dear Colonel watch one of his men perish right before his eyes.

And then the pin prick of pain flared through her arm.

* * *

><p>Murdock hated waiting. The guys could be getting into all sorts of trouble and he was just sitting there on his derriere. So what if he was a little banged up at the moment, did that really matter? It certainly didn't if his team needed him. He tossed his pistol aside and played with his new toy, the dart gun. After a while though, even that had lost its novelty, and he shoved it in his jacket pocket.<p>

And then the explosion sounded. In a heartbeat, he was out of the van limping toward the blazing school. He stopped, put his right hand on his head, and surveyed the damaged building. It was a total loss. How could anyone blow up an elementary school? He shuddered; that was unquestionably the bad kind of crazy.

The second blast took him entirely by surprise. The sound rumbled through his chest, causing his ribs to ache. He stumbled back, stunned by the heat. Why had the warehouse exploded? That he couldn't fathom. Had Sarah done it? But why? He reeled in confusion, standing, staring at the chaos.

In the shadows, a slight movement caught his attention. He pulled back, hiding himself from view. Could it be one of the guys? No, the figure was too small, too petite.

Sarah. He watched her shift forward; her eyes fixated on something near the warehouse. He followed her gaze and felt his flesh go cold. Hannibal and Face were crouched over BA. The big guy was lying so still.

He turned back toward Sarah. She edged forward just a bit, the firelight barely illuminating the riffle she held. Frantically, Murdock dug into his pocket and fished out the dart gun. He had to stop her.

Bracing himself, he aimed. It was a dreadfully long shot, and his arm was shaking badly.

"Don't miss…don't miss…please, don't miss…" he whispered under his breath, and then he pulled the trigger.

* * *

><p>Sarah tried to fight the drugs coursing through her veins. If she could just get off one shot…Her arms went limp, letting the rifle fall to the ground. She swayed as she reached over and pulled the dart out. From across the street, a lone figure stood watching her.<p>

Falling to her knees, her vision blurring, she glared at the person. Slowly, they began to creep forward. Her body losing all control, Sarah flopped onto her side. She blinked, struggling to fight off the growing darkness in her vision.

Still the figure moved closer. Each step a painful reminder of her helplessness. Even over all the chaos surrounding them, Sarah still heard the squeak.

"Lefty!" The familiar voice laughed. "You spoke again! I'm so glad to have you back, buddy! I always knew you'd come back and be the same old shoe you've always been!"

With the last of her strength, she glared up at Murdock. She could barely make out his dim figure, but that was enough. Fluffs of wild hair escaping from under a battered baseball cap, and the plumped leather of that stupid jacket proved it was the Captain. Plus, that smile. She could distinguish nothing else on his face, save for one boundlessly ridiculous grin. With her eyes fluttering shut, her last thoughts were on him and how badly she still wanted to see him die.

* * *

><p>Murdock stared down at Sarah, and there was only a solitary thought echoing through his head. <em>What now?<em>

"Lefty, buddy," he sighed, "I'm not sure what to do with this evil muchacha here. I mean, the world would probably be a better place without her, but…" He glanced sadly down at his shoe. "I just don't think I'm that kind of guy. And I can't let the team at her, because they might do something they'll regret. The big guy worries me the most. Nope, can't do that. He would hate himself later. So…"

With a groan, he bent down beside her and checked to make sure she was still breathing. A gentle tickle of warmth brushed across his hand. Yep, still alive.

"So, Lefty, any ideas about what we should do with her?" He paused and then frowned. "Yeah, I thought not."

With some effort, he rose. Recalling the scene of Face and Hannibal hovering over BA, he spun around to see how the guys were going. The Sergeant was stirring, but he seemed to be hindering the others far more than helping. The Colonel and Face struggled to pull the big guy back from the blaze as he fought against them. Murdock let out a relieved sigh. They could handle BA; it might not be fun, but they could do it, and at least he knew that the ugly mudsucker was alright.

But what was he going to do with Sarah? He took a few steps over to collect her rifle and found a satchel lying on the ground. Opening it, he found papers on an illegal diamond trade and smuggling operation. He let out a hissed gasp as he skimmed down a paper and noted the small fortune involved. After sliding the papers back into the bag, he stared at Sarah.

"You know, you really gotta quit carrying around satchels of incriminating evidence with you. This is just getting ridiculous." He smiled to himself. Yes, maybe he did have an idea of what to do with her. He had seen a few supplies in the white van that would be handy.

Quickly limping away, he knew he had to hurry. It might take the very last of the strength that he had, but he was going to get this done before the guys noticed he was missing. This was going to be fun.

* * *

><p>BA woke up and glared up at Face and Hannibal. The fools were carrying him! Yanking away, he gruffly got to his feet. He didn't need to be carried by no one.<p>

"Ah, so glad to see you're awake!" The Lieutenant's dirty face made his already dazzling smile seem ten times whiter. "Now maybe you can carry your own weight for a while."

With a low growl, the Sergeant turned toward Hannibal. "I gotta make sure that woman doesn't get away. She's bad news, Hannibal. Real bad."

The Colonel nodded softly. "I know, BA, but she's not in the warehouse anymore and even if she is…" He paused, his blue eyes sadly scanning the devastation. "There isn't much we can do for her."

BA frowned. Hannibal was a smart man, but he didn't know Sarah. He hadn't been the one around her for the last couple of days. She wouldn't be dead or dying. No, she'd be watching, waiting and plotting.

"I'm gonna take a look around." He growled, wondering if Hannibal and Face would try and stop him. Of course, they did. He would have been surprised if they hadn't.

"No, Sergeant. We need to find Murdock and…"

BA cut Hannibal off. "Fool's in your white van. He's in bad shape, but he'll live."

The relief that flooded Face and Hannibal was startling. He stared at the two for a moment before he realized why they had been worried. The explosions, they hadn't known where Murdock had been during all that.

"I'm going to go find Sarah," he said, eyes fixed on Hannibal, challenging the man to try and stop him.

The Colonel stepped forward, getting uncomfortable close, as his unflinching gaze met BA's. There were traces of concern and sorrow etched on the older man's face.

"Concussion," Hannibal said, still peering into BA's eyes. "His pupils are dilated."

"Oh, that's just great!" Face's voice had reverted to a playful whine. "He's anger and has a head injury. I don't know if we'll make it through this, Colonel. He's hard enough to manage when he's just anger."

Hannibal laughed. "No, the Sergeant is going to peacefully come along with us, so we can get back to Murdock, right?" Eyebrow arched, he gave BA a quizzical stare.

Nope, not this time. He had to stop Sarah. He had to make sure she could never hurt any of them, especially the fool, ever again. BA turned and started to march toward the burning warehouse. Suddenly, he felt Hannibal and Face grab hold of him. He made a fist, about to swing, when the events of the last few days came crashing back. He wouldn't strike out, not at his teammates; he would never do that again, no matter what. Still, BA tried to pull away, but the two men overpowered him, barely.

Slowly, they edged closer to where the white van was parked. BA had almost convinced himself to give in, to do as the Colonel ordered, but the thought of Sarah going free made him sick; it drove him on, fighting against his friends.

Sirens sounded in the distance, gaining strength as they drew closer.

"Sergeant!" Hannibal's tone was pure anger now. "Stand down. We need to get out of here. I'm tired of this foolishness. Get in the van. Face will drive up to your van and you and I will take it to a hospital to get you checked out while he takes Murdock to another hospital. We'd be too obvious in a large group. We'll meet back at the hideout as soon as possible. Sarah will get what's coming to her, but we have to do that later. Do you understand?"

BA stopped struggling and gave a timid nod. Hesitantly, Face and Hannibal let him go.

"Alrighty…" Face smiled as he stepped forward and slid the van door open. "…after you, BA."

But BA didn't move. He just stood there, staring into the empty van.


	22. Chapter 22 Banana Popsicle

**Chapter 22: Banana Popsicle **

Face strained to keep his grin as he waited for BA to load into the van, but as the seconds ticked by, he was getting apprehensive. If they couldn't get the Sergeant to go willingly, this was going to be a challenging getaway. Worst of all, they couldn't sedate him if he had a concussion.

"Hey, BA..." Hannibal's shoulders slumped as he glanced into the van. "Where's Murdock? Didn't you say you left the Captain here?"

A cold flush of panic spread through Face as he peered into the vehicle. No one was there. He turned back toward BA; the big guy almost looked ready to cry.

"Hey," Face said, managing to keep a reassuring tone even though his stomach was tied in knots. "We'll find him. He can't have gotten far. I'll bet he just…"

"Quiet," Hannibal hissed. "Do you hear that?"

Sure enough, Face heard it, and he had never heard anything more beautiful in his entire life.

_Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak…_

From around the far side of the van, Murdock emerged.

"Hey guys, did ya miss me? I went to check out all the big booms. I didn't know it was the fourth already, but I think someone messed up with the fireworks."

BA rushed forward and offered a shoulder for the Captain to lean on. Face felt his smile falter momentarily as he saw how battered Murdock was, but then he quickly secured his grin in place.

The Captain grinned back; his eyes sparkling. The conman looked into that pale face, with its blackened eye, bruised jaw and bloody temple, and felt an uncomfortable anger growing inside him. This was why BA had been so adamant about finding Sarah. He understood now, and he really started to wish they hadn't stopped the Sergeant. Maybe she deserved it.

Still leaning on BA, Murdock limped forward, his face contorting in pain as he brought a hand to his ribs. Before he could stop himself, Face gasped. The hand was a swollen mess of purple flesh. What had happened? Who could have given him such a beating?

"Load up," Hannibal's voice was soft, his eyes never straying from his Captain as he spoke. "It's time to go."

Face jumped into the driver's seat. From the back he could hear BA helping Murdock into the van.

"Fool, I told you to stay here. What you doing going out there like that? Gonna get yourself killed."

A satisfied sigh sounded from the Murdock. "I know big guy. You care. I know. I'm sorry I went off like that. Won't do it again. Scout's honor."

The passenger door slammed as Hannibal settled into the front seat. "Hit it, Face."

Sirens coming nearer, Face turned the key and spun out of the parking lot. Within seconds, he was dropping BA and Hannibal off at the GMC van. The Sergeant was reluctant to leave Murdock behind, but, eventually, he obeyed Hannibal's orders.

Face felt a wash of relief as they drove away. It seemed that everyone was far too concerned with the two blazing buildings to give much notice to the vans. He reached up and angled the rear-view mirror so he could watch Murdock. The Captain was hunkered down in his seat with his head flopped to one side, eyes fluttering open and closed as he fought to stay awake.

Suddenly, a fire truck raced by, nearly running Face off the road. He veered and cursed silently. Glancing in his side-view mirror at the red glow behind him, he shrugged. They were so not getting paid for this last mission.

* * *

><p>Officer Jones was trying to secure the area when the fire truck arrived. Being the first on the scene had been more than a little overwhelming. The school itself was a devastating loss, but at least there hadn't been anyone inside. The warehouse was a different story. He wasn't sure what had taken place, but he could already see a few bodies sprawled out by the blaze. With the heat, he couldn't get to them, and there would be no saving them even if they were accessible. What a horrific way to go.<p>

Thankfully, backup arrived quickly, but so did the reporters. In fact, it was a photographer that first drew him to the flag pole. Camera flashes caught his attention and he hurried over to ensure that no evidence was being damaged.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" He yelled, and instantly the photographer dashed off.

He paused for a moment as he realized someone else was still at the pole. They stood, but in an awkward, stiff position. Moving closer, he saw it was a woman. With her head sunk to one side, her eyes were closed as if she was in a peaceful sleep. A layer of duct tape held her to the flag pole. Whoever had done it had done a sloppy job. The tape bunched and wove in odd directions, and, judging by the thickness of the cocoon, they must have used an entire roll.

The scrawled note attached to her chest intrigued Officer Jones though. In sloppy handwriting, like a child's, the words '_I'm a bad person' _were written, and below that, somewhat smaller, was added '_I blew up the buildings.'_

Beside the woman, on the ground, a satchel sat; on it was a note that simply read '_Evidence.' _

"Hey, Jones, what you got over there?"

He turned and grinned at a fellow officer. "I don't know, but it looks promising."

* * *

><p>Face paced nervously in the waiting room. Murdock had insisted on going back without him which was odd. Usually the Captain was a bit leery of doctors and would beg one of the guys to go with him. Face almost started to shove his way into the back when a nurse wheeled Murdock out. The Captain was happily eating a grape lollipop. His hat and left sneaker sat in his lap, as a white square of gauze was taped to his forehead and a brace was on his ankle. Absentmindedly, he almost reached for the lollipop with his left hand, but the finger splints and ice pack quickly reminded him not to.<p>

"Ok, he's ready to go," the nurse said with a smile.

Before he even knew it, Face had given her the once over. Thin, blond, young and tall, oh yeah, she was pretty.

Face leaned forward and grinned back at her. "Um, is the doctor going to come out and talk with me, or can you fill me in on all the details?"

The nurse frowned. "Details?"

"You know, his injuries."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I was under the impression that Mr. Murdock didn't want…"

"That's ok, Muchacha, I'll fill him in." Murdock almost managed to get out of the chair before she forced him back down.

"I told you already." Her voice was soft, playful. "You have to stay off that ankle if you want it to heal properly."

"Oh yeah, I forgot." The Captain flashed a sly smile

Face groaned. "Murdock, I really need to know…"

"Ok," he sighed as he glanced back at the nurse. "You can tell him."

She didn't start off right away; instead, she placed a hand on Murdock's shoulder, as if waiting for him to change his mind. Finally, she began.

"He's got a severely sprained my ankle, meaning he tore ligaments. He needs to keep it iced, elevated and…" she paused to smile wickedly down at him. "He needs to stay off of it! His left hand has two broken fingers, both of which had, at some point, multiple dislocated joints. Also, he has two cracked ribs on his right side. They should heal well enough on their own, but he'll need to be on medication to help manage the pain. Also, wrapping them will ease some of the discomfort, but be careful that they aren't wrapped too tightly and the tape should be removed every so often so he can draw in deeper breaths to prevent pneumonia. He sustained multiple bruises in various locations and a laceration to his forehead which has closed on its own and no longer will require stitches. The doctor gave him a prescription to fill out for pain medication and antibiotics."

Sheepishly, Murdock handed the paper up to Face.

Face smiled at the nurse. "Thank you, I'll take him from here."

Fighting the temptation to ask her for her telephone number, he wheeled Murdock out of the hospital. It was already late morning and Hannibal would be worried. BA certainly wouldn't have let a hospital contain him for very long; they had probably been back at the safe house for hours.

Back in the van, he wanted to ask Murdock if everything was ok, but the Captain instantly started dozing. It had been a long day, and he did need sleep. Whatever answers the conman wanted, he'd have to wait until later to get them.

Face took a few back alleys and a side roads before heading to the hideout; it wouldn't hurt to be a little on the safe side. He pulled up behind the house, worried that BA's van was nowhere in sight, but then he remembered that the Sergeant liked to park it in the garage.

He nudged Murdock awake, sorry to cut the man's sleep short. With a little groan, the Captain opened his eyes.

"We're there already?"

"Yeah, buddy, you conked out the moment we took off. Let's get you inside so you can get some more rest."

"Naw." He yawned. "I want a shower first and food."

Face reached over and undid Murdock's seatbelt before helping him up. "Whatever you want, ok, but let's just do like the nurse said and take it easy for a while."

"M'kay."

Their progress was excruciatingly slow as they made their way into the house, and Face was thoroughly kicking himself for not stopping at the pharmacy and picking up Murdock's pain prescription. Once inside, the Captain had to sit down to catch his breath. No matter how much Face protested though, Murdock wouldn't give up on his shower, and he didn't want any help.

Face was allowed to bring him a fresh set of clothes and escort him to the bathroom, but that was all. Murdock quickly banished him from the room. Nervously, he waited in the hall for the next fifteen minutes, listening to his friend struggle out of his clothes, bandages and braces.

After one particularly loud clatter, he knocked on the door. "Are you ok in there? Do you need any help?"

There was a moment of silence before he could hear Murdock chuckle. "Faceman, are you _still_ out there? I'm ok; I just knocked over Hannibal's aftershave lotion. Maybe you could, um, not keep waiting out there though…I might be awhile, and… I'll be fine. I promise."

Face frowned. "Ok, but I'm going to come back to check on you in a bit."

The water started as Murdock answered. "Okay, Facey. I'll be here."

Wandering down the hall, Face could hear Murdock break out into an opera solo. He couldn't tell which it was, but the Captain was certainly giving it his all. That couldn't be good for his cracked ribs. He almost turned around, ready to tell the man he had to stay quiet, but he stopped himself. If it really hurt, Murdock would stop on his own, he hoped.

Ahead, a door to the garage swung open and Hannibal stepped inside.

"Face, how's Murdock?"

Face shrugged. He told Hannibal about Murdock wanting to see the doctor alone and _not_ wanting Face to hear the list of injuries. Verbatim, he repeated what the nurse had said and finally he took out the prescription and showed it to the Colonel. In return, Hannibal filled him in on BA's checkup. The man had a slight concussion, nothing more. He'd have to stay up for twenty-four hours as a precaution, but that should be the extent of his injury. What had been worrying Hannibal the most was BA's sulking.

"I know he's never been that talkative, but still, I can tell something's wrong." Hannibal took a cigar out of his pocket and lit it. "He won't even look me in the face. I can't tell what's eating him, but it's something big."

"Yeah." Face stared down at the prescription. "Murdock's still hurting pretty badly. I think I'll go get this filled. There's a pharmacy down the street. Can you go check on him in like ten minutes?"

"Sure, I'll bounce back and forth between the two. BA refuses to leave the garage. He just keeps tweaking the engine on his van." Hannibal laughed. "That's got to be the best maintained vehicle in the states."

Face gave a warm smile, but his heart really wasn't in it. Ducking away, he headed outside. He took the vette and hurried to the pharmacy and back in record time; he was only gone about thirty minutes. At the door, a worried Hannibal met him.

"Listen, he says he's ok, but he still hasn't come out." The Colonel motioned toward the bathroom. "I tried to get him to unlock the door, but he wouldn't. I thought maybe you could talk to him."

Face didn't answer, he just rushed back. That was stupid; He shouldn't have left. He should have stayed to help. Softly, he knocked on the door.

"Murdock, can you hear me? We're getting a bit worried about you out here. Can I come in and give you a hand?"

There was a little gasp before the Captain spoke. "N-no, I'm ok, Muchacho. Just having a bit of trouble with this tape for my ribs. I almost got it." A little yelp of pain sounded.

"Geez, Murdock, you don't have to do that yourself. Let me help."

No answer. He pressed his ear to the door and could hear stifled cries of pain.

"I'm going to come in, and you can't stop me. Do you hear me Murdock? I'm going to…"

Slowly the door swung open. Murdock sat on the edge of the tub, panting. His hair was still wet and slicked back against his head. He had managed to pull on his pants, finger splints and ankle brace, but he still had his shirt off. He sat awkwardly, with his right side turned away from Face's view. On the floor, wastes clumps of tape sat wadded up. His right hand tightly grasped the dwindling roll of tape.

"Don't be mad..." The Captain whimpered.

Face sighed. "I'm not mad Murdock. I just want you to ask for help when you need it."

"No, not about that…" He frowned and bit his lower lip, slowly turning to reveal his right side.

"What would I be mad about? You haven't done…"

And then Face's eyes settled on the huge yellow and purple bruise marking were Murdock's cracked ribs were. Distinct red lines appeared on the Captain's skin.

It took Face a moment to understand what he was staring at, but even as he figured it out, he could hardly believe it. He glanced in the mirror, his horror confirmed. In the reflection, clear as day, he could see 'BA' imprinted into Murdock's side. Face stepped back. That was from BA's ring, the largest one, with his initials brazenly written out in gold. But Why? Frowning, he turned, ready to storm down the hall and demand an answer, but as he moved away, Murdock leapt up.

The single sharp yelp of pain froze Face in his tracks. He spun around, horrified to see Murdock on his hands and knees, shaking. Quickly, he crouched down and tried to assess the damage.

"S'okay," Murdock wheezed. "Just got up too fast." He glanced up, his eyes searching his friend's face. "Don't be mad at him, she was hurting kids." His voice faded to a whisper. "He had to…"

"It's alright," Face cooed as he gently rubbed the Captain's back. "I promise I'm not mad, ok? Not at you and not at BA." And it was true. However, if Face ever saw Sarah, he was afraid of what he might do to her, because he could pretty much guarantee it wasn't going to be pleasant.

* * *

><p>Hannibal rubbed his temples, his head hurt, especially after what Face just told him.<p>

Murdock had eaten some soup and animal crackers before they had finally gotten him to bed. Only after they were sure he was asleep would the Lieutenant tell Hannibal anything.

The methods Sarah used disgusted Hannibal beyond all measure. He chewed on his cigar as he thought of how she forced his men to hurt each other. Plus, she had endangered children as well. What kind of woman was she? Killing wasn't his kind of justice, but she was making it hard not to abandon the moral highroad.

Face sighed causing Hannibal to glance over. They had taken to using the living room as their meeting place as they took turns checking on BA and Murdock. The Lieutenant was rather uncomfortable perched in an overstuffed chair; his expression was an odd mixture of boredom and concern which actually seemed to suit his handsome features somehow. Grabbing the TV remote, Face flipped the set on.

"…_prices will drop. And in other news, two major explosions rocked the southern section of Los Angeles early this morning. A school and a warehouse were reported as being total losses. No lives were lost in the school, but officials are still trying to get a rough estimate of the number of casualties in the second blast. The warehouse, which was not supposed to have been occupied, had an elaborate setup established inside. There has been no word yet on what took place in the warehouse, but speculation points toward illegal drug processing and distribution. This woman…"_

A still photo of an unconscious Sarah duct taped to a flag pole with an '_I'm a bad person' _sign stuck to her chest flashed across the screen.

"…_is believed to have been behind the explosions. No statements have been officially released, but it appears this woman is the infamous Sarah Chiang. She is wanted by at least thirty nations for crimes such as murder, kidnapping, espionage, embezzling, racketeering, involvement with drug cartels and assassination of political officials. Her capture, although somewhat bizarre, comes as great triumphant for law enforcement…"_

Face clicked the TV off. "Do you think that was…"

"Murdock's doing?" Hannibal smiled. He was sure of it.

* * *

><p>BA frowned. The air pressure was low on the rear passenger side tire again. He had just checked it and filled it when they had gotten back. Must be something stuck in it somewhere; maybe it was a nail or piece of metal. He'd have to take the tire off and look it over. He grabbed a jack and wheeled it over to the van.<p>

"Hey BA, whatcha doin?"

Taken by surprise, the Sergeant let the jack's handle clank to the ground. He spun and stared at Murdock. What was the fool doing up? He was supposed to be getting some rest. BA shrugged; he didn't want to talk to the crazy man right now. He didn't want to look at him and see all the hurt. He turned away, reaching for his jack.

"Workin' on the van, huh? Need any help?"

Why wouldn't the fool just leave him alone? Murdock needed to go away, to stop being so damn much like his usually self. Didn't he remember how much pain BA had caused him? Why did he insist on coming out and talking?

"I guess you don't, do you?"

BA cringed. There was a softness to the Captain's voice; it echoed with a hurt that wasn't physical.

"Maybe I'll just sit out here with you for a bit and watch you work. Ok, BA?"

He couldn't take it anymore. Facing Murdock, he frowned as the man limped across the shop, looking for a place to sit.

"Fool, I don't want you out here. Go back inside and stay away from me."

There was a moment of silence. The fool's large brown eyes were wide with surprise. BA was sure the man would turn and leave, but instead he smiled sadly and reached for a stool. The seat was too high and as he tried to get up on it, he grimaced with pain.

"I told you to go away," BA growled, but the crazy man continued to struggle.

Shaky and pale, he finally shimmied onto the seat, seemingly very pleased with himself.

"I said…"

Murdock laughed. "I know." Putting on his best BA impersonation, he added, "Go away, fool. You gonna drive me crazy with your jibber-jabber."

BA swallowed down a lump in his throat. He couldn't deal with this, not now.

"Why are you mad at me, big guy?"

He shook his head, not daring to look Murdock in the eyes. "Not mad at you. I'm mad at me."

Murdock sighed. "You know, this reminds me of a story."

BA glanced up; the Captain was staring off into the distance, his eyes glossy with memories.

"When I was nine…" The fool smiled. "…there was an old widow living at the end of our street. Her house was enormous, but all alone, she couldn't tend the yard. She lured all the neighborhood kids in with popsicles. The deal was, we did the yard work and then we got the goodies. Her tight little pocket book never had to see the light of day and we…" He chuckled. "We got the most delectable popsicles to ever exist. You see, she made them herself."

Murdock paused to grin over at BA, and the Sergeant quickly turned away. The fool was talking nonsense again.

"Well, since she made them herself, they were somewhat quirky. Whatever was in season was what we got, but there was one flavor that was a year-round treat, banana. It had a different consistency though. Unlike the other popsicles, it melted in a rather slimy, oozing way. With the way its yellowy mucus kind of dripped down it, all the kids started calling it the snotsicle."

BA stepped over to the van and put the jack in place. He was still listening, but he was doing his best to pretend like he wasn't.

"I loved the snotsicles, but everyone else hated them. I don't think it was because of the flavor. If they would have given it half a chance, I know they would have loved it too. It was just the look of the thing. Anyway, no matter what, even if Mrs. Middle, the widow, ran out of popsicles, I always got one, because no one would touch the banana ones but me."

The Sergeant started cranking the jack, hoping Murdock would take the hint and head back inside.

"Well, after a while, she started making mostly banana popsicles. I think they were the easiest to make, or maybe it was because she seemed to like me the best. Needless to say, the other kids were not pleased. Every day, after we left Mrs. Middle's house, everyone would throw their banana popsicles at me. I'm not talking about just handing them over for me to have. I had to run, flat out, fear for my life, run. Those kids were out for blood, and a few times they got it. I'd get home all sticky with snotsicle and covered in bruises. It was horrible, but I never stopped going to Mrs. Middle's house. I loved those snotsicles too much for that."

BA finished cranking the jack and glanced back at the Captain.

"Do you understand?" The fool asked; his grin painfully wide.

Frowning, the Sergeant shook his head. He had no clue as to what the crazy man was talking about.

Murdock's smile fell a little, but didn't fade entirely. "I never blamed the popsicle," he said softly. "You're just like those snotsicles. I don't blame you. Someone just happened to throw you at me, but it wasn't your fault."

BA blinked. He was_ not_ going to cry, not in front of the fool. Hell, not in front of anyone. But what he would do was…

In three strides, BA reached the Captain and, ever so gentle, encased him in a hug.

Murdock laughed. "I always knew you were a big softie."

BA noticed Face and Hannibal standing in the doorway, watching Murdock and him, but he didn't care. Just this once, he didn't care.

_~fini~_

**Sorry for the long chapter. I had myself convinced that I could cram it all into one. Silly me. I would like to thank all of you who have read this story _and_ all of you who have reviewed this story. I only hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks!**


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